The Mad Meisters
by TheAUWalker
Summary: A simple side glance and a swing of her hips, then Charlotte clicked into his life. She had a mind full of madness and was certaintly not the most normal girl on the block, but that was why he loved her. A collection of stories about the two mad meisters. SteinxOC.
1. Dreaming

**A/N: This story is going to be a collection of my SteinxCharlotte inspirations. If you would like to know what Charlotte Williams is from, go read my story Scarred X3 However, in there, she ends up with her partner Rim. I became obsessed with SteinxCharlotte and started writing all these stories outside of Scarred.**

**Some of these are recent, some of these are new. Some are fluffy, some are sad, some are long, and some are short. **

**I hope you guys will like them :D I'll have fast updates for quite a bit because a lot of these are already written, I just need to publish them. You can thank Lialane Graest for telling me to publish these things XD**

**I don't own Soul Eater, but I do own Charlotte and Rim from Scarred :3**

**Enjoy and please review! :D**

**It rains in Death City because I'm the author. Don't hate.**

-  
His tired eyes flicked to the clock.

Almost two in the morning.

According to Marie, he was supposed to be going to bed early..._well, isn't happening tonight._

The unlit cigarette hung almost forgotten from his lips, and with a weary sigh, he stretched.

Stein had been sitting in front of the computer all night, and his head was starting to ache.

Turning the screw protruding from his skull would not help...he needed sleep.

Letting out another sigh, he shut down the computer and stood up from his chair, making sure to pick up his lab coat lying discarded on the back of the chair. He glanced down the hallway to where the guest room's door was closed, and Charlotte lay sleeping behind it. He had finally cleared it out(Marie did most of the work, actually) so when it got too late for her to walk back home or Rim to pick her up, she could sleep somewhere else than the couch.

He opened his door and stood there for a minute, tiredly gazing at the bed.

The blankets moved.

Raising an eyebrow, Stein walked over to the bed. A small chuckle escaped his lips as he focused his eyes on Charlotte curled up under the blankets, fast asleep.

After slipping off his shirt and under the blankets himself, he heard a small sigh, signifying she had woken up.

There was a moment of silence, and Charlotte shifted.

"I had another nightmare..."

He brought the back hand up to gently rest on her forehead, and he felt her eyelashes flutter against his hand.

"You've been having a lot of nightmares."

Of course, they both knew why. The increase in madness caused bad dreams for both of them, but particularly for Charlotte. He suspected it was because she hadn't quite built up a resistance yet.

Her forehead was hot, warmer than it should be.

"You have a fever." Stein said quietly.

"I'll take something in the morning." Charlotte said, exhaustion showing through her voice. Stein lifted his hand off her forehead, but let it rest on the pillow.

She let out a tired sigh.

"Go back to sleep. Sorry to wake you."

Charlotte rolled over a few times and ended up half on his chest. Stein merely looked down at her, and she looked at him pleadingly.

"My head hurts, Professor!" She groaned.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He said with a slight smirk, moving his hand from the pillow to her head again. "Maybe if you hadn't stayed out so long in the rain, this wouldn't be happening."

"But it almost never rains!"

"You almost got me sick as well." He grumbled.

Charlotte moaned, grabbing his arm and shaking it. "Help me!"

He brushed a piece of her dark hair behind her ear, and her head dropped into the blankets.

"Do you want me to go get you some medicine?"

She shifted slightly to reveal one eye looking wearily at him. "Please."

With a small chuckle, he got out of bed and walked to the kitchen. He got the medicine and waited for a glass of water to fill.

While Stein waited, he glanced out the dark kitchen window. He scratched his chin, his mind drifting to other places, when a shrill scream erupted from the bedroom.

Without a second's thought, he had dropped the glass he was holding and darted to his room.

"CHARLOTTE!"

She was covering her eyes and shrieking at the top of the lungs. He grabbed her wrists, wrenching her hands away from her eyes, and shook her shoulders slightly.

"Charlotte, what are you screaming for?"

There were no other souls in the room then him and hers.

"K-kishin! I-"

"Charlotte, it was a nightmare." He pressed a hand to his face. "Jesus, you scared me."

"I'm sorry." She said in a small voice, and he placed a hand on top of her head again.

Stein went back to the kitchen, shutting off the water and bringing the younger meister the medicine.

Charlotte fell asleep soon after, a damp washcloth lying folded on her forehead.

As Stein felt himself drifting off, he wondered why there was black pricking at the edges of his vision.

-o-o

Charlotte woke up to tapping on her wrist. She rubbed her eyes tiredly, noticing it was still the middle of the night.

She turned her head.

Her teacher was obviously having a bad nightmare. Sweat was rolling down his face, his teeth clenched. His fingers were running all over the bed, touching her arm occasionally.

Charlotte was probably the only one who knew he had nightmares. Sure, other probably imagined it, but she was the only person who had seen it in action.

The greatest meister to ever graduate from Shibusen was just as vulnerable as everyone else in sleep.

"Professor Stein?"

Her voice was tentative, careful and cautious. She had woke him up from a nightmare before, and he did not take kindly to someone waking him up by surprise.

Usually what Charlotte did was just hold onto his hand and wait for it to be over. There was nothing she could really do for him, and nothing he could really for her.

So hold onto his hand she did, settling beside his shaking form on her side and closing her eyes.

He held her wrist in a possessive grip, trying to anchor himself on something real.

They both hoped it would be over soon.

At some point during the night, Charlotte woke up to see Stein had wrenched his hand out of her grasp.

After a moment, she realized he was awake, taking long, shuddering breaths and running his hands through his hair.

"Professor?"

"Go back to sleep, Charlotte." he said firmly.

So she did, reaching out to wrap her fingers around his hand.

He leaned over to place a soft kiss on her forehead, and gently squeezed her fingers.

They fell asleep, hands intertwined, protecting each other from the tendrils of madness.

-o-o

**If you have any questions/would like to know more about Charlotte, feel free to PM or just leave a review :D or, you could just wait until later chapters XD**


	2. Hollow

Stein's head jerked up from its resting place on the desk at the small _crash_ from down the hall. Within seconds he was standing inside the doorway, one hand on the frame.

Charlotte was staring over the top of the blankets in fear at the smashed glass that she had just sent sailing across the room.

He walked over and placed a gentle hand on her forehead. She closed her eyes at the contact, silently waiting for his verdict.

"You still have a fever." he said softly. "Another bad dream?"

She nodded, and then suddenly a tear slipped out from underneath her lashes and slid down her cheek.

He reached out to wipe it off, taking his hand off her forehead to brush her hair back.

"Charlotte?"

She suddenly let out a scream so filled with agony that he was jolted slightly.

The black-haired meister burst into tears. It was the hardest Stein had ever seen her cry.

Quickly, he sat down next to her.

She tried to breathe through her sobs, taking loud panicked gasps. He put a hand on her back.

"What?"

"I...please just kill me... _I can't take it anymore!_ I hate you! I hate everything! _You_ _fucking bastard!"_

He could see in her eyes that she was shocked those words were coming out of her mouth. It wasn't her saying it anymore, she had slipped under the madness.

Still, he was a little taken aback.

"Kill me already! I hate you! You _ruined my life_!"

He simply looked at her, waiting for her to finish.

With a loud cackle, she fell back onto the bed.

"Wait...stop, please...I'm sor-_YOU FUCKING BASTARD!"_

Laughs wracked her body that morphed into sobs at the end. She was shook by laughter so hard that she sat right back up.

Stein held her close, glancing at the opposite wall. She struggled, her body shaking, but he did not let her go.

When Charlotte's laughs died down, he released her. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and her eyes were squeezed shut.

"Charlotte..." he said softly, brushing his hand over her nose and cheek.

Her eyes shot open, black as night and with a wide grin.

She bit him.

Stein yanked his hand back as she let out another howling sob. When she opened her eyes briefly, he saw they were blue-gray again.

He gently wrapped his arms around her again as she fell against him, still crying full force.

"I'm sorry..." She choked out, burying her head in the crook of his neck.

Stein placed his uninjured hand on the back of Charlotte's head, running his fingers through her soft hair.

"Did you mean it?"

His words hung in the room heavily.

"I d-don't hate you-"

"That's not what I meant."

She did not answer, but he could feel her fingers tightening around a fold in his coat.

"Charlotte, answer me. Are you really having a difficult time?"

"Yes." She answered in a small voice. "It gets really hard sometimes."

He exhaled. "Charlotte, you need to tell me these things."

"Sorry..."

He tightened his arms for a brief moment before letting her go. Charlotte rubbed her eyes with one hand and didn't meet his eyes.

Suddenly he was leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on her forehead and standing. "Go back to sleep. I'll be in my room if you need me."

Stein shut the door behind him and waited until he was in his own closed room before sinking down on the bed. God damn it...why the hell did he do that?

Their relationship had never moved past teacher and student...wait, why was he even stressing? It was just an affectionate kiss on the forehead.

That was all it was.

-o-o

Stein had the habit of awakening in the middle of dreams. It was quite conveinient with nightmares, actually.

But on this paticular night, he awoke from something else entirely.

The mad meister sat straight up in bed and tried to rid his mind of the last images of himself pressing Charlotte up against the wall, capturing her lips with his own...

"Jesus..." He groaned, pressing a hand to his face briefly.

Why the hell did that even enter his mind? He was sure-well, no, actually not-that she didn't like him in that way. And of course-well, maybe not- that he didn't either.

For Christ's sake, she was his student!

He glanced at the clock. Eleven thirty.

Stein knew it was probably time to check on Charlotte and make sure she was fine. However, he didn't know if that was a good idea. What if he couldn't control himself?

No, he could control himself. No matter how much the back of his mind admitted the dream was a wish...Charlotte was his student, not his lover. And it would stay that way.

Stein placed his bare feet on the ground and pulled his shirt on, walking to the door. He walked down the silent hallway to the guest room and slowly opened the door.

The raven-haired meister lay fast asleep on the bed, her limbs lying out at random angles. Her shirt rode up her stomach, showing off pale skin marked by scars.

Stein knew he really should turn around and leave. Charlotte was fine, he could go back to his room.

But something compelled him to walk further and sit by her head. He brushed the hair back from her forehead and felt it. It was considerably cooler than earlier.

She was still sick, though.

Charlotte's eyes opened wearily at his touch, meeting his eyes.  
"Your hand is cold." She whispered.

Without saying anything else Charlotte closed her eyes again and wrapped her hands around his arm.

Stein slowly brought his free hand up and gently ran his fingers in her hair.

"Charlotte." He spoke gently.

She did not move.

"Charlotte." He said softly again, a touch of regret in his tone.

She opened one of her eyes, clearly exhausted.

Stein had to get up early tomorrow to meet with Lord Death and as much as he wanted to stay, he had to sleep.

"Please..." Charlotte's voice was small and sad. "Don't leave me."

Without his permission his arms wrapped around her form, pulling her against his chest. He carried her back to his room and put her down on the bed.

Charlotte made a small noise of content at the chill of the sheets and pillow, curling her fingers in the material.

Stein knew that this was a very bad idea.

However, he couldn't leave her alone...

There was a small scuffling noise, and Stein glanced over at Charlotte just in time to see her skirt slide off one slender leg onto the floor.

He did not blame her, it was a warm night, but she didn't know how much it affected him.

Stein climbed under the blankets on the other side of the bed and rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly.

"Professor?" Charlotte asked sleepily.

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

She did not need to explain.

"Of course."

After a moment he felt her tentative fingers touch his arm. Stein enclosed her pale hand with his own, and her fingers went still.

He could hear Charlotte swallow like she was trying not to cry.

Stein sat up to look at her, releasing her hand. Tears were indeed brimming in her eyes.

"Charlotte, what's wrong?"

"I can't believe what I said to you." She whispered in a tortured voice.

"Forget about it, okay? You didn't mean it. I'm not angry."

Charlotte squeezed her eyes shut and took a long, shaky breath.

Stein fell back again, this time closer to her. He wrapped his fingers around her hand.

As his eyes closed he could hear little sniffs as Charlotte went back to sleep and her crying slowly ceased.

-o-o-

He left early in the morning and when he came back was still early.

Charlotte was still asleep, her body curled around where he had been laying.

Stein scratched his head ruefully. As much as he wanted to go back to sleep, he had things to do...

She arched her back, pressing her head into his pillow.

Stein exhaled slowly and pushed a hand through his hair. Charlotte was even more beautiful when she slept, her features graced by peace and calm.

He stood there for a few minutes just looking at her and thinking. Stein would be doomed if she woke up because he would not be able to walk away.

He noticed a slight hint of discomfort on her face.

Finally forcing his legs to move, Stein went over to Charlotte's side and placed a cool hand on her forehead. It was hot and there were beads of sweat on her face.

Charlotte hazily half-opened her eyes at the contact, focusing on his face.

"Go back to sleep." Stein said gently, brushing a few pieces of her hair back.

Charlotte almost immediately closed her eyes.

Her face was pale, and it occured to him she had not had anything to eat the previous day.

As if his thoughts were spoken aloud, Charlotte opened her eyes again and stuck her arms out weakly. Stein obliged with a smile, holding the younger meister against his chest as he carried her to the kitchen.

He made her a bowl of cereal and told her to eat slowly. When she managed to finish half and then put her spoon down, he took the bowl to the sink.

"Can I take a shower?"

Her voice was scratchy and weak.

Stein nodded.

"Of cour-"

"With you?"

Charlotte's tone was pleading, and he knew that she was scared to be left alone.

The dream unhelpfully flashed through his mind.

As he washed out the bowl he remembered that Charlotte was still there. He nodded shortly and then heard her feet pad softly down the hall.

Christ, what was he getting himself into?

They had done it before. He kept a supply of old shirts in the bathroom so she could shower clothed. First it was because she absolutely hated to shower naked and then it was because she needed someone to hold her up.

Still, with that accursed dream still stuck in his mind...

Stein heard the shower turn on.

He finished with the bowl and then walked down the hall to the bathroom. Stein pushed open the door, avoiding her clothes on the floor and shed his shirt.

He opened the shower door, stepping inside. Charlotte was standing in the corner in a long black shirt that reacher her knees, avoiding the spray of water with her arms wrapped around herself.

When she heard the door open, she turned around and shuffled through the spray of water.

Her knees crumpled and Stein stepped forward instantly to catch her. The next thing he noticed was that the water was freezing.

"Easy." He said absently, reaching over Charlotte's shoulder to change the temperature.

Stein blocked the water from Charlotte with his back until it was warm, and then he stepped to the side.

She turned her head to the side and placed it on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Stein tightened his arms, pulling the girl closer to him.

They stood like that for several minutes.

He knew that the madness was taking its toll on her. She was scared to be left alone and got sick more often.

He wished they could just run away, but even when they were 'sane' their madness still kept its cold hand on the reins of their actions.

Charlotte turned her face upwards and he looked downwards to meet her eyes.

When he met her gaze, Stein quicky turned his head away, but it was too late. She'd seen the pain, the know...the fact that he truly ruined someone who he cared about.

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Such beautiful skin..."

"Stop." Charlotte said, her voice shaky as he trailed his finger down her forearm.

His finger went around every scar he had made and every scar that she had made but was his fault.

He should've taught her better...taught her to fight the madness before it took over. It was his fault.

"Professor, stop."

Stein paused at her wrist.

He did not realize his other hand had been gripping her elbow, and he let go.

"I'm sorry." He said abruptly.

"I don't think it was your fault."

Her voice was soft, and he did not want it to reach his ears.

He was a monster, an animal.

"I can't do this by myself."

Charlotte's voice was shaking again. She was scared.

She needed him to lean on and if he kept blaming himself he wouldn't be there for her.

She was the one always telling him to keep going when the madness took over his mind, and he couldn't fall apart now.

Charlotte's hands were curling around his wrists, and she was searching his face with a pale face and wide eyes, trying to make him look at her.

Just as he stood still he could feel panic swamping her soul.

"I'm sorry, Charlotte." He said quietly, meeting her frenzied eyes.

She smiled, and it was an insane smile, but he embraced the mad girl all the same.

He felt her collapse against him and Stein pulled back to see her panicked expression.

"It's okay."

Charlotte exhaled shakily, staring at one of the shower's floor tiles. He could see tears in her eyes.

Suddenly Stein had caught her chin and was tilting it upwards and pressing his mouth down on hers.

"Please." He murmured, pulling her closer, "Don't cry."

-o-o

He had almost wished that Charlotte had stopped him. He knew it was dangerous to be kissing her, to be close to her at all.

Stein couldn't stop himself and Charlotte didn't and he half wished she did.

They had to stop when there was a knock at the door. Stein went to talk with Spirit and when he came back Charlotte had fallen asleep.

She looked so peaceful when she slept.

Stein sat down next to her and placed the back of his hand on Charlotte's forehead.

Her fever was gone.

Stein exhaled in relief, allowing Charlotte to take his hand.

They may have sad eyes and hard nights, but they had each other.

-_xo-


	3. Trick of the LightTreat of the Night

**A/N: Halloween special :3**

**-o-o-o**

Originally, he had not even planned on attending the DWMA's annual Halloween party.

Franken Stein was not a party person.

However, there was something in the air this year, and for reasons still unknown, the meister decided to dress up and go for the hell of it.

He'd picked something that matched his character accordingly-the Joker.

Spirit, Stein, and Marie based their Batman character choices on their students. It'd been a rage lately, and then it wouldn't leave their minds.

Marie was going as Catwoman, and Spirit as Two-Face.

Because it had been so popular, Stein had actually seen his class drawing for the role of Batman and other popular characters so too many people wouldn't go as the same person.

He hadn't seen who got what, though.

When Halloween finally arrived, Stein headed out of the lab in full costume with Marie back to Shibusen. The party was being held in the grand room, and not many other people were there yet.

Tables with food and drink were lined up against the walls, decorations strung up. Altogether, it was a nice setup, Stein mused.

When more people started to arrive, the lights dimmed and the music started.

About ten minutes into the party, there was a loud roar as a certain weapon entered the room.

Rim Shakre had gotten the role of Batman, and made his entrance proudly.

Stein grinned, taking a sip of his drink, and then glanced behind Rim for his meister.

There was a flash of red, but Charlotte was nowhere to be seen.

The party went on, complete with spiked punch.

Stein strolled over to a more quiet corner, almost running into Robin, which upon closer inspection turned out to be Sora, one of Charlotte and Rim's friends.

"Hello, Sora, seen Charlotte?"

She snickered, and he raised an eyebrow.

"Over there." she said, pointing.

Sora walked off, and Stein maneuvered through the crowd.

He saw Poison Ivy(Mellissa, another of Charlotte's friends) talking to someone in the corner.

There was a tip of a red hat visible from around Mellissa's head, and Stein approached.

Charlotte looked up at him as he approached.

She was dressed as Harley Quinn, fittingly so, and Stein thought both his and her costume choices were quite ironic.

"Nice costume, Professor!"

"Thank you, Mellissa. May I steal Charlotte for a moment?"

Without waiting for a response, Stein gently took Charlotte's arm and led her away.

"Love the costume, my girl."

She blushed.

"Likewise."

"Care to dance?"

She smiled, and so they did, earning a wink from Spirit and a clap from Sora(who Charlotte promptly shooed away).

The Joker and Harley Quinn danced for a good hour, watching the party-goers go by and Two-Face pull Robin onto the floor.

The guests were mostly tipsy, some flat-out drunk. Stein and Charlotte had both had a few drinks themselves, but Charlotte was the one who was affected more.

After Charlotte nearly fell off the edge of a balcony, Stein decided it was time for her to go.

"Come on, Charlotte." he said with a chuckle, leaving her drunken friends behind.

She stumbled a bit on the walk back to his lab, the night cool and the moon full.

It was mainly her home these days. Stein needed to keep an eye on her, and it was easier when she just had her own room at his lab.

They got back to the lab without major incident(although Stein had to pull Charlotte back from the edge of the road a few times) and slipped into the dark building.

"I...am going to shower." Charlotte's voice trailed behind her as she walked to the bathroom, her red and black hat dropping from her hand.

Stein stepped forward to pick it up as the bathroom door closed, accompanied by the sound of water starting.

The stitched meister went to his own bathroom, taking a shower himself and then returning out to the main room. Settling on the purple couch, he turned on the TV tiredly, watching the images flicker in front of his eyes without any real interest.

Charlotte soon joined him on the couch, rubbing her hair dry with a towel. She settled into his side, and Stein placed his arm around her shoulders, glancing at her toes curling over the edge of the couch.

They watched some old Halloween movie until the early hours of the morning, and when the sunlight finally came through the curtains, they were both fast asleep.

Even the mad ones liked the moments where it was just them in the world.


	4. Bloody Thievery

He was typing and there was something nagging at the back of his mind. He couldn't remember what it was.

The scientist twisted his screw and when it clicked suddenly he remembered what had been irritating him so much.

One of his scalpels was missing.

Perhaps it was a prank-maybe one of his students had taken it.

Maybe Marie had misplaced it.

Maybe HE had misplaced it.

He couldn't figure out why this bothered him so much. He surely could just get up, ask Marie or look around himself.

Somehow Stein knew he hadn't just misplaced it.

He stood up, pushing his chair away with one firm hand.

Marie was out and his students would be asleep.

All except one.

He glanced at the ceiling as if he could see right through it to the room above.

"You want it back, don't you?" A cold voice swept around the room in a whisper.

Stein whirled around.

"Then come get it."

The voice trailed out of the room and as if it was a visible thing his eyes were locked to the doorway for the stairs.

He could not seem to move.

"If you don't hurry," it hissed again, suddenly loud in his ears, "you'll lose her."

Stein took off like a shot up the stairs.

He tuned in to his Soul Perception and saw that she was in his room.

He automatically reached for the handle and then glared down at it when it would not open.

Backing up a few steps, the meister landed a well-powered kick above the handle. The door flew open, revealing a dark figure hunched over on the bed.

He was frozen and could only watch the blood draining out of her wrists with horrified eyes. He saw the glint of metal on her arm and Charlotte's shoulders were hunched, her head bowed.

Stein took a step forward and she looked up.

Charlotte's eyes were so full of pain and despair and so many other things he wanted to look at something else.

"No!" He shouted, and she slid the scalpel in one last devastating cut across her wrist.

As if almost horrified at what she had done, Charlotte shook and he was at her side before she fell backwards and hit the bed.

It was like a horror scene...she was pale and blood was staining her skin and dress but it wasn't a horror movie, it was real life, and Charlotte was dead.

No, she was not dead, he would not allow for it.

He let his doctor's hands work automatically, his mind numb.

-o-o-o

Stein had made sure she was as comfortable as possible when she woke up.

He sat by her side, head bowed and hands clasped together.

He was grave.

It was not the only time Charlotte had attempted to take her life.

Once, he remembered, she had tried to drown herself. Another time she had attempted to be poisoned.

He had foiled each attempt but each time it filled him with a great sadness.

Words of comfort only went so far.

Sometimes Charlotte screamed at him to just let her die but he answered in a calm, cool voice that he could not allow that to happen.

She meant the world to him and he was not going to lose her.

Stein buried his head in his hands and ran his fingers through his hair.

He did not know how much longer they both could hold on.

Interrupting his train of thoughts, Charlotte's pale hand rose from the bed.

"Do we really need to have this discussion again?"

His voice was tired.

"No."

Her voice was small.

"You've got to stop doing this."

It's tearing us both apart, he wanted to say.

Usually he would re-state how valuable she was and even though it got hard sometimes and madness influenced her descisions she needed to keep a level head and just hold on.

Except she just knew what he was going to say.

"I thought you were actually serious last time when you promised this wouldn't happen again."

Stein's tone was neutral and he did not meet her eyes.

"Last time I didn't feel like this."

The best thing to do was just to keep her close.

"Charlotte?"

"Yes?"

He took her hand.

"You know how much you mean to me, right?"

"Yes, Professor."

"You know you're not worthless? And that you have a full life ahead of you? That we need to hold on?"

"Yes, Professor."

He leant forward until his lips were brushing against her cheek.

"You know how much I love you, right?"

She fell forward into his chest and he held her until she had cried herself out.

-o-o-o

Charlotte slept beside him and he softly ghosted his fingers across the white bandages around her arms.

Months later he had seen her attempt suicide a few more times.

He would never have imagined that he would be the one to finally end her life. Stein was the one who silenced her cries and released her from her misery.

It was the hardest thing he ever had to do and he regretted it immediately after, but he did it out of love.

Still, he felt like some part of him had left.

He could never express the feeling of relief when he saw her breathing again because he hadn't had time when she died to tell her how much he loved her.


	5. Murky Water

If you looked at them standing side by side, knew them even, you would  
think it was the best a teacher could ask for.

A student who was at the top of her class and had the respect for her  
teacher, one who advanced in her training. She had perfect resonance with  
her blade weapon.

Of course, the surface of even clear water never shows the true depths.

She had emotions like everyone else, and sometimes it was hard for her to  
stay at the top of the class. She fought with her weapon and spent  
sleepless nights. Sometimes she barely turned in her work on time and  
almost didn't make it into her seat by the bell.

People would say that she was the first student after Maka Albarn to not be  
afraid of him.

She adored science and her lessons, and she adored him.

You would see the perfect student-teacher relationship, and never think  
further.

Only one of Charlotte Williams' close friends(not her partner) new one of  
her deepest secrets: she had a crush on Dr. Stein.

However, as far as her friend was concerned, that was months ago, and  
Charlotte never said anything about it again. When she would bring it up,  
Charlotte would shrug and say she just guessed it passed.

It was far from passed, though.

They hid it behind closed doors, and extra lessons. Recess, lunch, after  
and before school.

A stolen kiss, a short embrace. Sometimes they both felt like it wasn't  
enough, but it was all they could manage, and for now it would have to be  
fine.

They knew the risks of being together and sometimes they grew overly  
paranoid, but they couldn't bear to break each others' hearts as well as  
their own.

It started when she was 13, and was still going on when she was 16. It was  
a wonder they managed to keep it a secret this who time, but they were  
careful. His Soul Perception helped because he could tell when someone was  
coming...if he wasn't distracted too much.

Marie and Spirit almost found out.

Marie, coming home from the grocery store, was not almost noticed by Stein  
as he was kissing Charlotte deeply in the middle of her 'homework help'. He  
pulled away just in time to make it look like he was bending over to  
explain something.

She was a little confused by the slight smear of sparkly lip gloss on the  
corner of his mouth, though.

Spirit nearly saw them one Friday after school. He was about to leave for  
Chupra Cabra's and came down the halls to say goodbye. He'd seen Charlotte  
getting back from a mission with a nasty cut on her side and a small slash  
on her arm, and he knew Stein stayed late to stitch her up.

For a second when he poked his head around the windowsill and spotted them  
through a gap in the curtains, from the angle it looked like Stein's hands  
were travelling a little high up her legs and they were kissing.

Spirit came around the curtain, and Stein was bent low, leaning forward to  
tie off the stitches.

Spirit forgot all about it in the next hour, drowning the memory forever in  
alchohol.

Their first kiss was quite random.

It happened one seemingly normal day during class. There were a few hours  
left in the day, and the class was bored. It was hot and the windows were  
open, but only a faint breeze was blowing through the room. It was study  
day, and many students were close to falling asleep on top of their  
textbooks.

"P-Professor Stein?"

He looked up from his book.

Charlotte was raising her hand, looking quite pale.

"Yes?"

"I don't feel well..."

"Go along to the nurse's office."

He watched her as she shakily made her way down the steps and out of the  
classroom. Right before she left, he could hear her breathing heavily.

Stein watched her soul go into the nurse's office.

Nygus's soul was not in the room. Neither was Sid's.

They were on a mission, damn it.

"I'll be right back." he said casually. "Make any noise and I'll make sure  
you regret it."

He stood up from his chair, left the classroom, and strolled down the hall,  
leaving his coat behind on his desk.

Damn, it was hot.

He tugged at the neck of his shirt and rounded the corner of the infirmary.

Charlotte was sitting on the very edge of one of the beds, gripping the  
edge and looking extremely uncomfortable. Sweat was running down her now  
very pale face.

"Charlotte?"

She didn't look at him until he was right in front of her.

"What's wrong?"

"I can't breathe." she said softly, swallowing.

He turned around to grab a spare coat, and there was a *thump*.

Stein whirled around to see Charlotte lying flat on her back, her legs no  
longer swinging. He rushed to her side and saw her eyes were shut and her  
chest was not rising.

"Charlotte!"

When her eyes did not open, he pressed two fingers to her neck.

There was a faint heartbeat, but she was not breathing.

"Shit." he muttered.

He held her nose closed with one hand and placed his mouth over hers.

For two minutes he repeated breaths and compressions, and when he was  
beginning to think she was gone, there was a loud gasp and her eyes flew  
open.

Stein wiped his mouth and pulled back.

She stared into his eyes with fear-filled ones of her own.

"Relax." he said gently. "You just went out for a minute."

She suddenly burst into tears.

"I know I shouldn't have taken it; I know I'm allergic," she sobbed, "But  
I'm just so *tired*!"

"What did you take?"

"S-sleeping pills..."

"Charlotte, you're doing fine in class. More than fine, excellent. It's  
okay to go to bed early."

She nodded slowly, wiping her eyes.

"I just keep thinking I'm going to slip..."

"Do you truly believe in the fact that you are the top?"

"Yes..."

"Then hold on to what you believe. You're going to be fine."

"But, Professor-"

She was cut off by him stepping forward and holding the sides of her face,  
pressing his lips against hers.

"Shut up." he murmured. "You're very smart."

Then he pulled back, his eyes wide.

"Oh, shit." he said, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry." he muttered, again, as she slid off the bed.

He expected a slap, but instead the next few minutes were a blur.

Charlotte felt like she couldn't breathe again.


	6. I Will Wait(sf)

**I don't own Soul Eater.**

**-o-o-o**

_Well I came home_

_Like a stone_

_And fell heavy into your arms_

She was at his lab, again, and he so desperately wanted to scream at her to go away.

However, until his madness released him from its constricting bonds, his lips were sealed shut.

She was covered in blood, again, and she was so weak that she fell forward onto him when she tried to walk.

_Wait for now_

_And I'll kneel down_

_Know my ground_

It was an endless game of waiting for the madness to end, for the scalpel to stop its arc of descent upon her scarred form.

Sometimes he threw up when she was gone because he was so sick of it...so sick of _himself._

_And I will wait, I will wait, for you_

_And I will wait, I will wait, for you_

He had a dream, once-or maybe it was a wish. A hopeful vision in which he extended his hand to her shredded form, pulling her up and out of her prison.

He would wait for her in the darkness as long as it took for her to find her way.

_Well you forgave and I won't forget_

She forgave him, of course she forgave him. It wasn't his fault.

But he would never forget the way she would scream.

_Now I'll be bold_

_As well as strong_

_And use my head alongside my heart_

He had to be strong for her-he couldn't break.

He had to hold it in until she was free.

_So tame my flesh_

_And fix my eyes_

_A tethered mind free from the lies_

She would cry, he could hear it from the other room.

He would grit his teeth around the cigarette.

_And I will wait, I will wait, for you_

_And I will wait, I will wait, for you_

He would wait.

He would wait until her small, pale hand was placed in his, and he could finally pull her out.

He would hold on, and he would wait.

-o-o-o

Drabble 1: I Will Wait by Mumford and Sons


	7. Animal(sf)

_There was a time_

_When my world was filled with darkness_

He thought about it all the time, and sometimes, Stein wondered what it would be like if the madness hadn't stopped.

Charlotte would be be dead, and he would still be locked up, cackling away without a care in the world.

Rim possibly would've gone mad as well from anger. Marie...well, he didn't know about Marie.

Rim would've found a way to kill him, slowly and painfully. Then he would only be a Death Scythe in his form, not by his title. He would not be in England doing Shinigami-sama's will.

It would be different, because he wouldn't get to see Charlotte anymore.

_In your eyes I see the eyes of somebody_

_I knew before, long ago_

_But I'm still trying to make my mind up_

_Am I free or am I tied up_

He could see her in there, locked away inside her own mind. It was the same when he looked in the mirror.

She was there, and every day she slipped farther down, and the demon gained a little bit more of her mind and soul.

He did not like to look at her soul.

Sometimes he wondered if he was going mad, if the demon had come back to get him.

He would think about calling her to make sure it hadn't come back to get her.

_But I'm still, I'm still an animal_

_Nobody knows it but me when I slip_

_Yeah, when I slip I'm still an animal_

He was a monster.

What kind of person-

No.

He wasn't going to think about what he'd done, because it would leave him feeling sick, and he was supposed to leave soon for the DWMA.

But he still thought about it, it clawed away at his mind like a beast with sharp talons.

_And now I'm pulling your disguise up_

_Are you free or are you tied up_

He was always covering up for her.

He had to, in order to avoid getting caught. She had lost the ability to think on the level rational people did anymore, so he thought for her.

He always painted her disguise perfectly, and presented her with her mask before she left, making sure no one saw what was under.

After all this time, there was still fear coiling in his heart.

What if she was still being possessed?

He would look into her eyes, though, and she would smile, and he would breathe.

He would slip, and he was a monster, an animal.

Like a large, viscous and ugly dog killing a small, fragile beautiful bird, fluttering in its cage, trying to escape.

She didn't think he was a monster, though, and sometimes that was the only thing that made him get out of bed in the morning.

-0-o-o-o-o-

Drabble 2- Animal by Miike Snow


	8. Doubt

When someone was not acknowledging your fingers around their arm, it nearly drove you mad, raising your voice to overpower theirs in a deadly dance, repeating and **repeating**.

Repeating that you were really there, that you really existed.

That you were not dead.

When you could not get them to meet your eyes, to listen to you, for a second, you could believe them and actually think that you did not exist.

He had thought about it before.

He had thought about what would happen if he woke up one day and there was no Charlotte, no Rim.

If he had just dreamt her up.

It wouldn't be that hard to believe. She got grief about picking the mad scientist, and sometimes, he wanted to join in with them. Tell her to run as fast and as far as she could away from him.

But Charlotte was real, living and breathing flesh, and she would never run.

Now it was the middle of the night, and the sounds drifting through the lab were not ones of peaceful sleep.

Charlotte was awake, crying-and therefore he was awake.

Stein had sat up in the dark and bent over the disraught girl who would not look at him.

At first he had thought she was scared of him because she kept flinching away from his touch and would not meet his eyes.

It soon became clear it was much more then that.

She kept repeating that he was dead, that he did not exist, that he was not real and not there.

"Charlotte." He said firmly, grapping her shaking wrists tightly. "Look at me."

The tears kept rolling down her cheeks and her sobs were growing more hysterical by the minute.

She would not meet his eyes and did not seem to realize that he was holding her.

Stein cupped Charlotte's cheeks, brushing away the tears with his thumb.

The only sign of acknowledgement that he got was her trembling fingers wrapping around his hands, trying to secure on something real to drag her out of the living nightmare.

"You're dead." She whispered, and a fresh flow of tears streamed down her pale face. Stein leaned forward, wrapping his arms around the girl and pulling her close.

"I'm not, Charlotte, I'm right here." Stein murmured into her hair.

Her hands pushed at his chest, shoving him away.

"Get away from me!" She screamed. "You're not real!"

"GOD DAMN IT, Charlotte, I am!"

He had not meant to raise his voice, he had not meant to yell at her.

But it was done, and he could see the fear in her eyes after being instantly silenced.

Before he could reach forward to take her hand, before he could say something, she was gone. Stein heard her feet patter down the hallway and knew he should leave her alone, but there was no telling what she would do.

He pushed the blankets back and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, frustration and fear coiling in his stomach.

Charlotte had left the door open on her way out and his fingertips ghosted across it briefly as he passed, the grooves in the dark wood reminding him of the raised cuts and scars on Charlotte's skin.

There was a loud bang from the kitchen and Stein shot down the hall, shoving open the door.

A teacup smashed into the wall next to his head, narrowly missing his screw.

Charlotte stood hunched over in the corner of the kitchen, a cabinet door open next to her, her dark hair over her eyes. She hurled a saucer at him and he dodged, circling and holding his hands up.

"Charlotte, please calm down."

His voice was strained, urgent and full of pain. Seeing her like this tore at his heart and it hurt even more to know there was practically nothing he could do.

Charlotte's madness was a terrifying force.

She screamed at him to go and then cried so hard her whole body shook.

Stein stepped forward and grabbed her wrist, his fingers digging into the pale flesh. She desperately tried to twist away from him but he did not let go.

"Charlotte." He said through gritted teeth. "I am very damn real. Anchor to me. Come on."

She cried harder.

"Please."

The word was so soft that she should not have caught it, so full of pain. He needed her and it was killing him to see her madness taking over on this severe of a level.

But she could not come back.

Through her eyes he was a hazy outline filled with nothingness and she could feel his fingers wrapped around her wrist, feel him squeezing so hard it hurt, but her ill mind did not connect the two and told her it was an apparation instead.

The doubt was too overwhelming, the sanity being taken over by insanity, a nightmare coming to life.

Nothing else mattered more to him then her in that moment. He kissed her with desperation and need, pain showing through in the force with which he held on to her.

If it was possible, she cried harder, her knees buckling. Charlotte would've fallen to floor but he was there and he caught her, holding her close to him tightly without a word.

Relief.

For both of them, they were relieved, and as he helped her back up the stairs, avoiding the shards of the broken teacup and saucer, they knew it would never truly end. Their lives would always be lived in fear, they would always be in pain, they would always be terrified of what was next.

But they had each other, and as long as there was doubt in her mind he would always be around to stop it.


	9. Gumbo

Marie had cooked a gumbo that night and even though(as always) he wasn't planning on eating, she literally dragged him from his chair.

He ate in silence while she talked, his mind somewhere else, and eventually she went to bed and him back to the computer.

It was late when Stein heard her go to bed, and almost as if Charlotte knew, there was a small knock on the door.

He got up to let her in, offering some of the leftover gumbo, but she shook her head.

The older meister made her a bowl anyway.

They both needed to sleep earlier so a few hours later they had gone up the stairs and were in his bed, waiting for sleep to take them.

Stein noticed Charlotte was more distracted than usual but did not say anything, letting her sleep.

The silver-haired meister drifted off first and woke up two hours into the night, Charlotte absent beside him.

He sat up quickly and was almost startled to see her sitting hunched over at the end of the bed.

"Charlotte?"

"I stayed home today, Professor."

"Yes..." Stein answered slowly. "Everybody needs a day off once in a while."

"But not like me."

"Charlotte, you-"

"Why do I have to be different?"

He made his way up behind her without an answer, brushing his lips across her shoulder.

The tears on her cheeks glinted in the faint rays of moonlight coming through the crack in the curtains.

They were both mad and it would never change. They would never be the same as everyone else, never be able to completely fit in.

Never be normal.

Stein ran a hand through his hair with a small, sad exhale.

He had nothing to say.

She seemed to know and climbed over the hill of blankets with him to lay back down.

Charlotte intertwined her fingers with his, his other hand tangling in her hair.

They would never be normal, but at least they could be different together.


	10. Vanilla

It was almost feverish, the way that they kissed. They had all night and all of the next day but the way his hands ran over her body was like there was no tomorrow.

They were out, on a mission, with Spirit and Azusa. Stein left the two weapons behind at the restuarant, taking his student back to the hotel because she could barely hold anything down.

Charlotte was fine now and she let out a small squeak as her back hit the wall.

He'd barely been able to restrain himself in the elevator on the way up and a temporary loss of self-control found his hands up her shirt.

-o-o-o

Charlotte slipped back under the blankets, placing her glass of water gently on the floor next to the bed.

Previously on his side, Stein rolled over on top of her and lazily pulled the blanket down to reveal her pale stomach.

Charlotte arched, reaching back to adjust her bra which was digging into her skin. He began trailing soft kisses up her body and a smile pulled the corners of her mouth up, her eyes closing.

The door opened suddenly, admitting Spirit to his and Stein's shared room.

Stein held himself protectively over Charlotte, who had opened her eyes and was staring at the doorway where Spirit stood, holding a bowl.

"We went for ice cream."

Spirit took a step forward and placed the bowl down on the desk.

"I got you some. Vanilla."

He turned on his heel and exited the room, no doubt joining Azusa.


	11. Spoiled

It was all ruined, and Charlotte sank to her knees on the cold floor, hands shaking.

It was all spoiled, all wrecked.

She shut her eyes tightly but tears still flowed down her cheeks and a strangled, pained noise escaped from her throat.

A wave of nausea swept over her and Charlotte cried out, straining, hoping to hear any noises from outside the door. Any noise that would mean someone coming to help her.

What was is it like, you ask, to be sick all the time?

For your every waking moment to be wracked with waves of nausea, for every breath to bring forth a rush of pain?

Migraines every moment, spots dancing in front of your eyes.

And sometimes you didn't even know what was going on or what you were doing. You were locked inside your own mind, forced to watch as life went on without you.

You could be Charlotte Williams and not be able to be normal, like everybody else.

She'd been trying to do something nice for once, something helpful, and now it was all over the counter and the floor.

It had started out fine-a minor headache, nothing to be worried about.

Charlotte had dumped the pasta into the boiling water, blinking the spots out of her eyes. She'd the tomatoes and put the sauce on the stove, cut the bread and gotten out the plates.

After all he did for her, she at least could make him dinner.

In her mind's eye, he would come home, tired from a day full of teaching, and he would smile. That sad smile that still carried something special for her.

She would have dinner ready and it would be okay, they would eat and after a while she would have to go home.

But she would sneak back out like she always did, slip back into the lab when Rim was asleep(she felt slightly guilty) and join him sitting up in bed, reading, talking.

She couldn't do it.

The knife had not sliced cleanly through the tomatoes and the bread, a spasm of pain had sent the blade into her flesh.

Her shaky hands had spilled the sauce and the water went cascading down out of the pot in a waterfall, splashing onto the floor and the stove and her.

Charlotte barely flinched, just retreated down to the cold floor, shaking.

Nothing. She could do nothing right and soon he would come home and _see_.

He would not smile at her, and it was what she needed to see most.

Charlotte barely heard the door open and close, barely heard his greeting. His footsteps didn't register in her ears and she didn't hear his sharp inhale.

His fingers skimmed over her pale skin with a doctor's touch.

"Charlotte, are you burned?"

Stein's hand cupped her cheek when she did not reply, and Charlotte looked up into his concerned, sad face.

After all the effort, she had just made him worry more.

The tears began to roll and Charlotte shook harder, clutching his hand to her face. He picked her up, moving her out of the puddle of hot water and sauce, glancing at the cut on her finger.

"I'm sorry."

She stared at the outline of his jaw as he bandaged her finger. He had that rugged handsomeness that she loved, his green eyes focused on the task at hand.

His eyes met hers briefly, his fingers ceasing to move for a split second.

Stein bent down and brushed his lips over her nose, smiling the smile he saved for her, and it was what she needed.

Suddenly she wasn't so broken anymore.


	12. Ink

**A/N: This one is a bit of horror.**

**-o-o**

Her blood was the most perfect ink he could ask for.

His scalpel across her pale flesh was like the pen, leaving lines of red behind wherever it went. If he pressed hard enough, his pen would make thick red lines, and if he was softer, light red.

So many shades in just the color red.

It flowed over porcelain skin like the best paper he could have, painting and writing in only patterns he could decipher.

How he loved to create.

It was different picture every time he opened her up, never the same. The same marks from past pictures stayed on his canvas as little white lines, like small memories.

Only the best pen for the best paper, and only the best ink for the best artist.

But one day his pen wouldn't work anymore. It had run out of ink, and he tried different places on the paper, pressing deep, trying to coax the pen into releasing more of the lovely red ink.

There were too many white lines. His paper had been filled.

He was out of ink.


	13. Anticipation

Charlotte, despite how bubbly she could be, did not like parties.

Rim, despite how quiet he could be, liked parties.

So, Christmas Eve, Rim was going to a party, a bit reluctant to leave his meister at home.

But as soon as Rim had gone Charlotte was grabbing her coat and her boots, pocketing her keys and her phone, pulling an extra black tank top and a pair of purple shorts from her clean laundry.

Barely ten minutes after Rim had gone, Charlotte left.

It was not so much that she did not want Rim to know where she was going-more so that she knew he would worry if he was aware she was out.

But, hence the extra clothes, she would be sleeping over, so she had to tell him something.

Charlotte pulled out her phone and sent her weapon a text saying that she was going out after all and would be back the next day.

When she arrived at the Patchwork Laboratory, she walked right in, not really minding that Stein was no where to be seen.

She changed in the bathroom and pulled a blanket from the basket by the couch, turning on the television.

Charlotte fell asleep after two hours and woke briefly to his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her off the couch with the television off.

She was deposited in his bed, Christmas Eve, her partner off at a party and exhaustion already crashing back down.

Charlotte wanted nothing else.


	14. Broken

Her voice was broken.

Her mind was broken.

Her body was broken.

But he would stop at nothing to fix her.


	15. Lace

**A/N: I'm publishing two tonight because Broken was really short.**

**This one is...**

**Probably one of the saddest things I've ever written. You've been warned.**

**-o-o-o**

She'd come to his lab

_like home for her_

Holding something, untouched

_suspicious_

He'd asked about it.

_No words_

She just gave it to him

_Examined it_

Spiked, an unopened bottle with a

_barely noticable_

puncture hole in the cap

_laced_

with something, he wasn't sure

_he would find out_

He asked her how she got it

_it was just soda, she said_

He laughed

_and told her she never drank soda_

She cried

_said it was to help her sleep_

He asked how long

_she whispered forever_


	16. Marshmallow

"Professor?"

He looked up and stopped typing, the computer screen illuminating his face in the dark lab.

Charlotte was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, clutching something close to her chest.

"Do you have any marshmallows?"

He realized the thing she was holding was a mug, and in the mug was hot chocolate. Charlotte had started making hot chocolate or tea before bed because she needed something warm to send her to sleep.

The caffeine in the chocolate did not seem to take effect before she was asleep.

"I don't think so." the scientist answered, turning his attention back to the report he was typing. Out of his perephial vision he noticed that she was still standing there.

"Something you need, my girl?"

"Marshmallows."

"Did you look?"

"Yes."

He stood up.

Walking to the kitchen and searching through the cabinets took him a while, but the search turned up empty. Charlotte was still standing behind him in her oversized sweatpants and sock feet, one of the straps of her tank top slipping down her shoulder, and wide eyes watching him over the rim of her mug.

"We're out."

Stein ran a hand through his hair and turned to face the raven-haired meister.

She made no acknowledgement that she'd heard him.

"Charlotte?"

"Hmm?"

"I said, we're out of marshmallows."

"Oh."

Her voice was sad and he felt the urge to go out in the rain and get them for her.

"You'll live."

"Can I go out and get some?"

_Burning rush of pain_.

"Professor?"

_He was drowning._

"Professor Stein?"

_His limbs were lead._

"Can I go and get some?"

_Dry mouth._

"I'm going."

"NO!" he shouted but she was already gone.

He woke up in a cold sweat, alone like he had been for three weeks, waking up at the exact same moment that he always did, the exact same dream for three weeks.

It wasn't really a dream, it was a scene.

He should never have let her go because she went into the rain and never came back.

Stein had gotten the news of her immediate death by impact from a speeding car an hour after it happened.

He had gone out looking for her, worried about the rain and the time it was taking.

Her body was in the street and he was nearly hit himself for how long he stayed there, holding her pale, cold hand.

It was his fault because he had forgotten to go get more marshmallows.


	17. Allergies

**A/N: Finally, a bit of humor ;)**

**-o-o-**

He caught her wrist gently as she went by, pulling her towards him. As he had caught a glimpse of, her eyes were filled with tears.

"Charlotte, what's wrong?"

She shook her head and scrubbed her nose with her sleeve, not meeting his eyes, the tears threatening to spill.

"Tell me."

He hated to see her cry and she had just been in class. Stein could feel his fists clenching before he put them on her shoulders, preparing to heavily injure anyone who had made her cry.

She shook her head again, faster, and tried to move away.

"Charlotte, please."

A watery smile crossed her face.

"I'm fine."

"You're-"

"Allergies, Professor."


	18. Droplets

She stared, her eyes wide, down at the gray cement, bent over, one hand on the wall.

It was a cold wall but Charlotte barely noticed, transfixed of the sight of the small, glittering droplets falling from her eyes.

They would splash and make little spots.

Her mouth was shut tightly but soon she could not hold her breath anymore and she coughed, a spray of blood mixing with her tears.

Charlotte's knees buckled.

She didn't catch herself, her wrist twisting awkwardly.

There was no pain but she was seeing through a haze, fingers dragging through her own blood and Charlotte desperately wanted the tears to stop rolling down her cheeks and the blood to stop dripping off her chin.

The tears welled up in her eyes again as her body convulsed violently, small red droplets flying through the air.

There was to be no light at the end of the tunnel for her, no heaven, no salvation.

She wondered where he was and could not think of anything else. Her mind remained stuck on the fact that he was not there.

Her mind refused to take in that the wall she had braced herself against was not really a wall, it was a chest, and the floor she had collapsed on was not really a floor, it was two arms.

He would never let her fall.

But she didn't see he was there even though her eyes were wide open and she was freezing even though he was holding her close, because Charlotte Williams was just too far gone.

Her face still cracked in a shaky, unstable smile when his hand brushed across her cheek although she couldn't see it.

It was horrifying how such images(or rather, lack of) could be brought on by nothing, and even worse how there was nothing he could change.

All that could be done was to wipe the sparkling droplets from her face.


	19. Necessity

The ending is up to interpretation.

-o-o-o-

It was a lucky thing Charlotte had the habit of staying up so late or else the telephone would have gone on ringing and would have woken Rim.

She had been typing, her fingers flying over the keyboard, messaging a friend. The old-style black spin-dial telephone in the corner of her room rang once, twice, before Charlotte got up, eyes still locked on the screen.

Charlotte was still focusing on her friend's message as her hand felt around for the phone, in the back of her mind wondering who the hell was calling this late.

"Hello?"

"Charlotte?"

She had never heard his voice like that, so full of pain and desperation it tore her eyes away from the laptop.

"Professor?"

It had happened before but it was still unusual for him to call.

"Is everything okay?"

Charlotte winced as a distant crash sounded on the other end.

"What was that?"

"You should really be asleep."

"Not to be rude, Professor, but I don't really think this is the time for advice."

He laughed, and it was strange because a laugh was not supposed to sound so sad.

"Why are you calling?"

Another crash.

"Professor, _what is going on_?"

"It's so nice to hear your voice, Charlotte."

He sounded too strange and even as he was speaking Charlotte was slamming the lid of her laptop shut and grabbing a pair of flats from her closet, unhooking her coat from the back of her door.

"I've actually never owned one of these before." he continued. "I've never needed one, but I thought it would be nice to choose something they wouldn't expect."

Charlotte threw the phone back in its cradle and ran all the way to the Patchwork Laboratory.

-o-o

When she arrived, out of breath, the door was unlocked.

Almost as a taunt.

The raven-haired meister pushed the door open.

She took a few steps forward and there was a small _click._

_"_Don't move."

The lab was a mess, and some of the furniture looked like it had been blown to pieces. The stuffing was leaking out of Marie's purple couch, and Charlotte could see the faint spot of light from a cigarette against the back wall.

"Professor?"

She took another step.

"I said, don't move."

His voice was cold.

"Tell me what's going on."

When he did not answer, Charlotte advanced.

He was pointing one gun at her and had another pressed to the side of his head.

"Stop."

"You're not going to shoot me."

He leveled the gun at her head.

"Don't underestimate a madman, Charlotte."

"Professor, please put the guns down."

"These are interesting. No souls, just cold killing machines. I'd never thought I'd need one because if I cracked, everyone would expect me to cut myself to death. Or poison, maybe."

There was an earsplitting sound of shattering glass from the next room.

"There goes the chandelier." he added.

"Why are you doing this?"

She noticed the phone on the ground next to his leg.

He was watching her.

"Do you really think this is right?"

She met his eyes.

"I'm a very sick man, Charlotte. When a sick man finds a cure for the plague that has afflicted him all his life, do you really want to tear that cure away from him? Do you really want to keep making him suffer? It's not easy to make him let go of it."

"Professor." Charlotte said in a small, scared voice. "You're not yourself. Please-"

_Click_.

He had cocked the other gun pointing at his head.

"Think about it." he said angrily.

He stood up and walked slowly over to her until the gun was hovering over her heart.

"And is it so cruel," he asked softly, "To deny a sick man his one last wish?"

"Please." Charlotte whispered, eyes squeezed shut, "I need you. I can't-"

He tapped the gun against her chin.

"You're very beautiful, Charlotte. You deserve a long life."

"Stop it." she said, her voice shaking. "Stop."

Stein lowered the gun.

"Don't cry."

He traced the edge of her jaw with his finger lightly, looking down at her with that kind of finality.

"I'm sorry."


	20. Exquisite

The sheet held up under her arms was slipping low on one side and Stein observed it quietly for a few endless minutes, tracing the hem with his eyes. Back and forth, back and forth.

She sat with her head thrown back, next to him, exposing her lovely, exquisite pale skin.

Charlotte stared at the ceiling and the only sound was his breathing.

She would do it sometimes, wake up in the middle of the night and just be staring at something. Stein had given up trying to figure out the various things she was staring at a long time ago.

But he still looked.

Lying on his back, one arm under his head, he stared up at the gray ceiling with her.

Sometimes he'd ask what she was looking at.

Charlotte would never answer, but he didn't really expect her to.


	21. Heart Skips A Beat(sf)

_I can see you're not yourself_

_Even when you're here with me_

_I know you're somewhere else_

He would look at her sometimes and see that her mind was a million miles away. He would ask her what she was thinking about, and she would talk about something they both knew was a lie.

Even when she lied he knew what she was really thinking about.

The marks on her body were too numerous to forget about.

_Nothing really matters when we're dancing_

_Listen to the same sad song playing on repeat_

_Cause every time we come this close_

_My heart skips skips a beat_

Sometimes it felt like they were in their own little world, just the two of them.

He liked to sit on the edge and look out at the view of nothing. She would cry behind him as she tried and failed to jump high enough to reach the end of the ladder.

Their lives were like sad songs, playing over and over and the only people listening were them.

Every time, even before it all, after, or during, it would make him smile when-

She just made him smile and his heart skip a beat.

_So come on, spin me around_

_I don't wanna go home_

_Cause when you hold me like this_

_You know my heart skips skips a beat_

_I know I should but I can't leave it alone_

_And when you hold me like this_

_That's when my heart skips skips a beat_

She would try to stay, and sometimes it amused him how she protested.

However much he wanted her to not leave, it was the way it had to be.

He couldn't leave it alone how much she amazed him. She couldn't understand how much he wanted to say but couldn't find the right words.

Every time she was near him, every time he sensed her soul approaching, every time her scent wafted over...

His heart skipped a beat.


	22. Coffee And Cigarettes(sf)

_Coffee and cigarettes are my only escape_

_I got my cup of joe, my pack of stokes, and I'm on my way_

_Downtown_

_To set up shop and sing my cares away_

_So won't you sing with me_

_Because it's cold outside and I'm feeling kind of lonely_

He used to tell her not to drink coffee because she was already hyper enough.

That was what he used to say, but not he did not comment when she drank enough coffee to supply a small army because there was not any other way she could stay awake.

She used to tell him not to smoke because the smell bothered her and it wasn't good for him.

That was what she used to say, but she did not comment when he smoked because the smell was something familiar to anchor on to when she was deep in the madness.

It always seemed so cold, he mused.

_Friday nights are always the same in this town_

_I'm looking up, but I'm feeling kind of down_

_So I'll light this cigarette and smoke the night away_

_And I hope that Saturday will be the day_

_When everything feels okay_

It was always the same, always the same. He cut her open, she cried, and then they hated themselves and their madness.

One night they almost spent the whole night out on the roof. He held her close as smoke from his cigarette drifted up into the night sky.

They were very cold despite the small body warmth they provided, but they stayed because it felt good on their damaged skin.

Each night they hoped the next day would be better.

It never was.

_Coffee and cigarettes are best when shared with you_

He used to love spending time with her outside of class.

Now it was like a curse when she showed up on his doorstep. He so desperately wanted her to go away because if she kept knocking(like her madness would make her do) his madness would make him open the door.

And then he would cut her open, and he would make her cry, and he would feel sick.

Now he just longed to see her smile again.

If she would only smile, some of the guilt that was always cascading down would pause for a little.

She tried to smile, too, but the madness pulled the corners of her mouth down.

He just wanted to see that beautiful smile.


	23. Magnify

She would magnify his madness, and he would magnify hers.

Despite it all, they still chose to be close rather than far.

He pushed her away at first.

When he made the horrible, terrifying discovery that neither of them would really ever be all right because of each other, he pushed her away. He was cold and unfeeling towards her, like everyone expected him to be. It sent a stab of pain through his heart to see her cry because he wouldn't speak to her, but it was for the best.

However, he didn't see that behind the tears was steel.

She would not give up. Every day she stuck to him and nothing could pry her off.

Even when he snapped from pure sadness, fear and anger about what he could do to her and yelled, she didn't budge.

Then he just could not push her away anymore. There was nothing left for him to do, and she stepped forward, still there where so many others had run.

He amplified her madness, and she amplified his.

But yet there was something that made them cancel each other's insanity out, creating this sort of odd calm with randon spikes of unleashed madness.

They never told anyone what their souls did when near each other because there was a chance one of them would be ripped away.

He had a dream about it once, Charlotte being torn away from him, her hands ripped right out of his and her scream filling the air. It made him sit up in a cold sweat, fingers twisting in the sheets.

The way she would hold on to him was like she never intended to let go, and he didn't want her to either.

As much as they might magnify each other, they couldn't bear to be apart.


	24. Ho Hey(sf)

_I've been trying to do it right_

_I've been living a lonely life_

Sometimes she said that she didn't regret having those visions.

She said that it was true she was happy before everything went to hell, but it seemed fake. Like behind her smile, there was emptiness.

She now knew what suffering felt like.

It made her stronger.

_All the blood I would bleed_

_I don't know where I belong_

_I don't know where I went wrong_

He wondered when it happened.

For her, was it the siren's call luring her down the dark alley? Did she look into the hideous face of madness and know right then it was over?

For him, it might've been seeing her face contorted by the demon into something else. Someone who was close to him being ripped apart was not exactly an easy thing to stomach.

_I belong with you_

_You belong with me_

_You're my sweetheart_

There were some who believed they should be kept apart.

He was angry, and fought with all his power to show that their mad wavelengths had switched from amplifying to calming each other's.

Finally, _finally_ they believed him.

He was who she wanted to be with.

_I don't think you're right for him_

_Look it might have been _

He honestly didn't think Rim would ever truly understand. Sometimes she expressed that even though many other people knew what happened, only her and him truly knew.

He didn't think Rim was right for Charlotte because he would never truly see.

Nevertheless, Rim was better than him.

Unfortunately, she didn't seem to see that, and still chose him instead.

_She'd be standing next to me_

_I belong with you _

_You belong with me_

_You're my sweetheart_

She'd always be by his side, and in his visions and nightmares was the one figure beside him on the lonely street.

An all gray and black street, and she seemed to glow.

She would reach out for his hand, and he would take it.

They would find the right way to go.

_Love we need it now_

_Let's hope for some_

_So we're bleeding now_

_I belong with you_

_You belong with me_

He wondered what would've pulled them out if Rim and Marie hadn't.

They would've had to focus on each other, but would it have been enough?

They still bled.

But they still held hands.


	25. Chasing Cars(sf)

_We'll do it all_

_Everything_

_On our own_

_We don't need_

_Anything_

_Or anyone_

No one could help them or even begin to understand, so they had to help each other and do everything themselves.

Most of the time they were crying out for help on the inside, hoping that someone would turn and really _see_.

Their madness twisted it, like it twisted everything.

It made him whisper to her that when she screamed no one would come to help her. It made him say that they were all on their own.

The sad thing was is that it was true.

_If I lay here_

_If I just lay here_

_Would you lie with me_

_And just forget the world_

She wished she could forget it, block it all out. He wished he could stop, pick her up and tell her it was going to be okay.

He wished they would forget, but he knew neither of them would.

They could not forget.

_I don't quite know_

_How to say_

_How I feel_

_Those three words_

_Are said too much_

_They're not enough_

She would never truly know how sorry he was. She would never know how much he loved her because he couldn't say it.

His lips were sealed shut, and even when they were allowed to open he couldn't say it for a while.

Those three words just didn't seem to be long enough to cover all he wanted and had to say.

It finally occurred to him that it might be good to start small.

_Show me a garden_

_That's bursting into life_

All she really ever wanted to see anymore was something alive, she said. She looked around and saw gray, she looked in the mirror and saw death looking back.

So when he was sane enough to get up and out of his chair, he picked a small vase of flowers. He put it right in the spot where she stared, and although they were small flowers, they brought life to the room.

All he wanted was to make her happy. Tears rolled down her cheeks and blood soaked her neck.

But she smiled.

_I need your grace_

_To remind me_

_To find my own_

He was sure that it was her who kept him sane. She was beautiful and had a pretty laugh and a nice future. She didn't get hurt too often and was the only student in his class that liked him.

He needed to see her because if he didn't, he was sure he would go insane.

_All that I am_

_All that I ever was_

_Is here in your perfect eyes_

_They're all I can see_

His madness prevented him from making eye contact with her most of the time, but when he could, he would meet her eyes. They were beautiful a blue-gray, and he would stare for as long as he could.

It was something he could stare at that would make his head ache less.

_I don't know where_

_Confused about how as well_

_Just know that these things_

_Will never change for us at all_

He was just so _confused_ all the time. What was going on in the world, where did he have to be?

She felt like she would be taking the same path to his lab for the rest of her life sometimes.

Like she would never walk anywhere else.

_If I lay here_

_If I just lay here_

_Would you lie with me_

_And just forget the world_

When it was over, they would go up on the roof and look up at the stars.

Most of the time they would find one another sitting on the edge of the building, just looking up at the twinkling lights and grinning moon.

They would never forget, but at least they had something.

They had each other.


	26. Beautiful Is Gone(sf)

_Our love has come so far, but not at all_

_I remember the start, you can't recall_

_By the time it was right, you didn't want to fall_

They had been through so much and it was a miracle they were sane and alive.

She was a bit luckier in the fact that most of her memory was gone. Of course, she had still felt the pain.

Sometimes he wondered exactly how much she remembered.

Particularly him saying he loved her over and over to keep her sane.

_Blindly, I let you destroy me_

_Love is not so beautiful when your lungs are caving in_

He did not understand why their madness was determined on torturing them both simultaneously.

Her madness let him destroy her with a syringe and a scalpel.

_And I pushed you so hard, but not at all_

_You closed your eyes_

_I could see it all_

_Run out the door, see no more of you_

_And what you do_

She would close her eyes, and he would urge her to open them so he had something nice to look at.

And, of course, she would run. Sometimes she had to run to get home before Rim, other times she just plain wanted to leave.

One of the most painful things was his madness twisting his wish for her to be the best she could be in class. Vile words came out of his mouth, threatening what he would do if she failed his tests.

It was his fault her grades were dropping. He told her to succeed and then pulled her down.

He always told her that he didn't mean it, that she was smart and wonderful, but it became hard for her to believe.

All she wanted was for him to be proud.

_I can't keep from crawling back for more_

_Crawling back for more_

She always came back, and sometimes he just wanted to reach out and blow up the house and kill himself as well in the explosion so she wouldn't have anywhere to walk when her madness took over.

But he had promised that he would hold on with her.

_Beautiful is gone_

_Beautiful is gone_

_Gone!_

And then she was dead. It all happened so fast he didn't understand.

He had realized what she was trying to tell her and couldn't forgive himself for letting her give up, but he couldn't stand to see that look on her face anymore.

So he killed her so she wouldn't suffer any longer.

The next thing he knew there were people everywhere, and Rim was screaming, and Spirit was dragging him away.

Spirit was the one who told him that they had managed to bring her back to life and temporarily away from the madness. He said they had figured out what had happened and he wouldn't be locked up much longer. Rim would keep healing her and she should be fine.

He could breathe.

And then she came to see him, and he tried to stop her from leaving Death City. He wanted to reach out for her hand and never let go, tell her not to leave.

She would not listen to him.

So he told her how he wouldn't be able to go on if she left, and how if she would just _wait-_

She left, and he shouted for her to come back.

She was not fine, and she did not turn back.

When she was brought back by Rim almost a year and a half later, he didn't let go of her hand until he was forced to.


	27. Harder to Breathe(sf)

_How dare you say that my behavior is unacceptable_

_So condescending, unnecessarily critical _

He had watched some of her missions, of course, in the Death Room with Spirit and Shinigami-sama. She was learning to develop her Soul Menace and extend Rim's abilities. She was a vicious fighter, always delivering final blows that were always fatal.

He wondered sometimes how fast the madness would've been driven out of his body if she could've attacked him. But, of course, she wouldn't do it even if she could.

Maybe it wouldn't even make him lose his breath because her Soul Menace wasn't fully developed, but to a degree, he understood.

He would never hurt her of his own free will, just like she never wanted to hurt him.

So when he yelled at her to improve and drove her to tears in training, it was only because he didn't want her to get hurt.

_You drain me dry and make me wonder why I'm even here_

_You want to stay but you know very well I want you gone_

The second before she could move and their telepathic resonance broke, he screamed at her to run as fast as she could. Sometimes she wanted to stay and make sure he was going to be okay, but yelled(mostly begged and pleaded) for her to go.

Sometimes she asked him why she was alive; why he couldn't kill her yet.

It gave him a very painful feeling in his chest.

_When it gets cold outside and you got nobody to love_

_You'll understand what I mean when I say_

_There's no way we're gonna give up_

_And like a little girl cries in the face of a monster that lives in her dreams_

_Is there anyone out there because it's getting harder and harder to breathe_

He understood when she wondered out loud if there was anyone there. They could now only see what their madness chose for them to see, and it didn't include caring faces.

She now knew how he felt when he said he was a monster. She _was_ a monster, and they lived in her dreams as well.

The times where they could share resonance, he caught brief glimpses of her dreams, and he felt sorry for her.

They would never give up, though, because they couldn't live in a world without each other.

_Does it kill_

_Does it burn_

_Is it painful to learn_

_That it's me that has all the control_

_Does it thrill_

_Does it sting_

_And you wish you had me to hold_

He wondered how painful it was.

Just for kicks he was sure the demon amplified it to almost unbearable when to a normal person it would've only hurt for a small amount of time.

Although he was the one slowly marring her skin with scars, her demon seemed like it was the more powerful one. He had never seen anything like it before...total control and possession.

It would have been so much easier if their tormentors were actual beings. Then he could hold her and comfort her. It would've been so much easier if he could clasp her hand and shield her.

But he couldn't protect her, even though he tried with all his might.

He just couldn't.

_When it gets cold outside and you got nobody to love_

_You'll understand what I mean when I say_

_There's no way we're gonna give up_

_And like a little girl cries in the face of a monster that lives in her dream_

_Is there anyone out there because it's getting harder and harder to breathe_

They knew what it was like to wake up and not be able to stop the nightmare.

They knew how it felt to feel like their feet were lead and it was impossible to keep taking breaths.

It would be so _easy_-

No.

They couldn't give up because that would be giving in and they still had full lives to live.

Especially her.

She used to say that it didn't really matter if she was killed by a kishin egg on a mission because there were hundreds of other meisters to take her place. It wouldn't matter if she died because she was just another trainee.

He got angry, and told her she was so, so wrong. She was special, and could never be replaced.

There was no one quite like Charlotte Williams, and he made sure she never forgot it.


	28. Skinny Love(sf)

_C'mon skinny love, just last the year_

Pour a little salt, we were never here

My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my

Staring at the sink of blood and crushed veneer

Charlotte Williams was a thin little thing, and he loved her from day one.__

Yes, he would admit that she annoyed him. She wasn't a quiet person and wasn't afraid to voice her thoughts in the middle of class.__

But she was different.__

Ever since it all went to hell and he saw her most nights in the week, they were careful to not leave any traces.__

He would watch her blood mixed with water drip off the doorstep of the back door onto the dirt.__

It would soon mix in and be unnoticeable, just like how the sane parts of their minds were slowly fading.__

I tell my love to wreck it all

Cut out all the ropes and let me fall

My, my, my, my, my, my, my, my

Right in the moment this order's tall

He told her that if he ever tried to kill her, if his sanity was completely overtaken by madness and he really was not there anymore, he told her to kill him.__

He was always watching, always still there when his madness took over. __

If he wasn't, there would be nothing left, and he told her to do it even though she would cry.__

He didn't want to hurt her or Spirit or anyone else.__

It was a tall order but he made her promise even though she didn't mean it.__

Sometimes false hope was the only remedy to a fake life.__

I told you to be patient

I told you to be fine

I told you to be balanced

I told you to be kind

He told her every day to be patient, to just hold on, because it was going to get better. __

She didn't believe him and he didn't believe himself but he didn't have much else to say.__

He told her to wait and be okay.__

Sometimes she cried and told her that she didn't _want _to wait, that she couldn't take it anymore, and it was painful to hear.__

He knew how hard it was for her to hold on but he didn't think he could go without her._  
__  
_He didn't know what he would do if when she went home that would be the last time he saw her.__

In the morning I'll be with you

But it will be a different kind

He said he would always be there when she woke up, even if he wasn't right beside her.__

He didn't know what life would be like if he hadn't met her.__

I told you to be patient

I told you to be fine

I told you to be balanced

I told you to be kind

She told him to wait, too, that he had been brought back before and it would happen again.__

Neither of them were okay but it was a nice little smiling game to ask.__

They would wait for each other, and when they weren't insane anymore, maybe they could throw the knives away.__

Who will love you

Who will fight

Who will fall far behind

Despite everything, despite who they were, they never let go of each other._  
_


	29. Black and Blue(sf)

_How long has it been, shall we get into it again_

Excuse our disgrace, we've had no time to paint the place

When he finally saw her again after Rim brought her back from England, he didn't know what to think.__

He was wondering if that was a glint of an engagement ring.__

He was a mess and he didn't want to let go of her until Rim was telling him that they really had to go and would come back later.__

There was no ring, but he kissed her because it didn't matter if there was one or not.__

I won't waste your time with my revelation

Hello, my friend, I see you're back again

Hello, mystery, don't bother to explain

He did not talk about her that much because he didn't want anyone to take her away.__

But she was truly his most interesting experiment.__

When he had something to tell her, he would, but he couldn't seem to find the right words for when she stepped back into his lab after so long.__

It was a mystery. She was a mystery, he was a mystery, and he was fine with it as long as he could see her again.__

How bout it's all been in my head

Hey world, I'm tired of this black and blue, black and blue

He had a dream once(more like a nightmare) about Charlotte not even existing. What if she was all in his head, he had thought it all up? She was certainly too perfect.__

He was tired off all the bruises.__

But she was real, and she made sure to prove it.__

My dear, come again, your voice is fading out and in

Out of the laundry bin, I found my innocence again

Being in his madness was like being in cage. He could tell what was happening but he couldn't speak or act in the way he wanted to.__

It was cruel to only be able to sit and watch, and his screams only echoed back at him.__

Sometimes when he couldn't focus her voice would fade in and out, even when it was the thing he wanted to focus on most.


	30. Home(sf)

_Alabama, Arkansas, I do love my ma and pa_

But not the way I do love you

Well holy moly, me-oh-my, you're the apple of my eye

Girl, I never loved one like you

People warned her not to get mixed up with the mad scientist, but Charlotte wouldn't want to be anywhere else.__

Charlotte was truly something else and he didn't think he'd ever seen someone quite like her.__

That was probably why he didn't feel like three little words were enough.__

Man, oh man, you're my best friend, I'll scream it to the nothingness

There ain't nothing that I need

Well hot and heavy pumpkin pie, chocolate, candy and Jesus Christ

Ain't nothing please me more than you

He would trade everything for her, and she would trade everything for him.__

They really didn't need much, just each other, and they could make do.__

Nothing made him want to smile more then Charlotte Williams.__

Home, let me come home

Home is wherever I'm with you

Oh home, yes I'm home

Home is when I'm alone with you

It didn't matter if she was standing in the middle of the desert of the top of the world, he would always bring her home.__

She had said one cold night while they were lying side by side up on the roof that she didn't want to leave. __

They looked up at the stars and she belonged.__

I'll follow you into the park, through the jungle, through the dark

Girl, I never loved one like you

Moats and boats and waterfalls, alley ways and payphone calls

I've been everywhere with you, that's true

She would follow him anywhere he went, and as she once put it, 'you're stuck with me for a hell of a long time.'__

To put it plainly, no one had ever said something like that to him before.__

He liked to take her places because she liked to see new things.__

At the end of the day, at the top of the Eiffel Tower or the path under the cherry blossom trees, they would follow each other anywhere, and wanted to go everywhere.__

_Laugh until we think we'll die_

Barefoot on a summer night

And in the streets we're running free like it's only you and me

Jeez, you're something to see

On New Years', they danced on the roof and watched the fireworks.__

She almost twirled right off and it was just so funny he forgot about the fire of fear in his stomach and laughed along with her until they both thought they would die.__

Well, there's something I never told you about that night

What didn't you tell me?

I was falling deep, deeply in love with you and I never told you till just now

Three little words seemed so small when there was so much to say.__

But one night when he really thought she wasn't waking up and that was it, it crossed his mind that maybe it was good to start small.__

Alabama, Arkansas

I do love my ma and pa

Moats and boats and waterfalls

Lay awake till the break of dawn

Most nights they didn't sleep, they would talk instead because they knew what happened when their eyes were closed.__

The first real night of sleep they got when it was all over was the weirdest feeling.__

Home is wherever I'm with you

Home is when I'm alone with you

When she was crying and she was lost because her madness had made her walk without direction, she knew that he would always come to get her.__

Her place was right with him.


	31. Bloody Mary(Nerve Endings)(sf)

_Drown you out_

_And left you with a sound_

_We'll spoil good nights_

_Replacing lullabies_

"Charlotte." he would say.

"Charlotte, stop screaming."

She would still be trying to crawl away even though she would never get to the door.

"We wouldn't want someone to come and hear now, would we?"

Yes, it did bother him to think that her dreams weren't filled of happy things.

_How could they never notice_

_What they planted in your space_

_See you laughing in a picture_

_But I know it's out of place_

He held a photograph of her once, the shattered glass of the picture frame cutting into his hand.

She had looked so happy, eyes closed in mid-laugh.

It was funny how all traces of a smile could be so suddenly erased.

_You barely cried_

_But you made it all alive_

_And I'm so proud_

_That you're in my hands now_

When she was finally broken, in the last moments before her life completely slipped away, she didn't cry.

She had made it through all that, after all, and finally he could be the one to send her away.

To finally grant her peace.

_If we stay here long enough_

_We can play with Bloody Mary_

_Say her name into the dark_

_Activate our nerve endings_

Cardiomorphic lips, he thought.

Heart-shaped.

She looked so much different in the blackness than in the light.

_If we stay here long enough_

_We can play with Bloody Mary_

_She'll chase us through the dark_

_Activate our nerve endings_

When he twisted her wrist back, the blue veins would pop and he would taunt her about being under his blade.

One time he carved a heart into her waist, something cardiomorphic.

She made such a lovely canvas.

_I'll never let them get closer_

_Or shower you with any blame_

_Now we dance in our own picture_

_Where the rules have changed_

After everything, he would still not let anything happen to her.

All the blame was pushed on him and he let it be.

When they were alone, together

They could share their special smile

And make their own rules, draw their own cardiomorphic nerve endings.


	32. Multiple

_Multiple teeth, an inch from his flesh._

They were so white and his eyes so wide.

He could count them, watch pale lips pulled back in a smile. Teeth like needles, each one sharp, long and pointy, a few dripping with crimson liquid.

Click, click, click.

They clicked, a terrifying noise in the silence, black eyes glittering in the darkness. He would be alone, it would be quiet, and then the clicking would start.

He would know that she was back, and bile would rise in his throat.

Her fingers would slowly curl over his shoulders and the grip became painful, fingers digging into his skin that were becoming tighter by the second.

Then she would lower her head, her hair brushing against his neck. Her lips would ghost across his ear, and he almost see the corners of her mouth twisting up, lips thinly pressed together.

He would sit.

She'd reach forward to take off his glasses, setting them gently down on the table, a slight clink as they hit the wood.

His eyes would follow her arm and watch the pale hairs rise.

Her lips would press against his temple, the hollow of his cheek.

He would feel the urge to grab her by the neck and pound the shit out of her but he knew that it was not real.

Sometimes he didn't know what was real or not anymore.

He spun in his chair and hands closed around her waist, yanking her towards him, fury coiling like a snake ready to strike.

Her breathing was hard and fast.

"Professor!"

He squeezed tighter and one of his hands moved up to close around her throat.

"Please, Professor, please stop, you're hurting me-"

His thumb dragged up her neck and up her chin.

He plucked at her lips and heard something crack in her waist where he was squeezing.

"See." He whispered. "See how it feels, this pressure?"

His finger slipped inside her mouth and pressed against her teeth.

Instantly, a wave of cold horror swept over him.

The teeth were flat, and he could see her panicked blue eyes from the angle he was forcing her chin up.

He drew his hands away immediately, but the damage was done.

She backed away from him, clutching the corner of the table for support and crying so hard her shoulders were shaking.

He could feel his heart break.


	33. Last Words

**A/N:Sorry for the repeat alert, guys.**

**-o-o**

It was becoming more frequent that she would slip away, and more difficult to bring her back.

Every time to pull her out of her second world of hallucinations he had to tell her something real, something that she didn't know already.

He was her anchor.

But it got worse and worse, and sometimes he would grasp for something to say.

It couldn't be any old thing, it had to be important to her.

And then he fell.

He would get sucked into his own world of terror and hallucinations, and it was him who needed to be pulled ouut. He would see her struggling to stay afloat when he could barely swim himself.

And then one day she just did not fight the current anymore.

There was only one more chance to save her, only one more thing he had to say.

He swallowed around the lump in his throat because he knew that he would be forced to stay behind.

He knew his mind would slip after time, and he would die.

He knelt beside her and held her close to his chest.

"Charlotte."

His hand brushed a piece of black hair off her pale face.

"I love you."

Her eyes shot wide open and she grasped for him, but there was nothing next to her, it was just her in the dark lab.

Her fists pummeled the wall and she was shaking, shaking and crying for him.

And when he broke, she could feel it.


	34. Turmoil

Charlotte is sick.

She is sick, ill, tossing and turning in the bed that Rim set with cold  
sheets.

Charlotte turns the pillow and slams her head down on the chilly side.

There is a washcloth on her forehead and a plastic market bag hanging on  
the doorknob. A box of tissues tilts on the edge of her bookcase, and a  
freshly cleaned bowl sits next to the air freshner.

The fan rotates slowly, and the curtains are drawn against the bright light.

Charlotte's tank top is riding up her stomach and one sock has slipped off  
her foot.

Her fingers, shaking, touch her face.

She feels them burn.

Tears roll down her cheeks, hot and she does not want them. Burying her  
head under the pillow does not work because she is suffocating, and her  
hair is damp and she hates it.

She yanks it on top of her head and secures it with a rubber band.

Charlotte is sweating, and the bed is too hot. She has showered five times  
today, and it is only one o'clock.

She makes long, red lines down her cheeks.

It is too hot in the house but her body is wracked with chills.

Rim will be back in an hour and a half, but it is not who Charlotte is  
waiting for. Rim has always been warm, and Stein has always been cold.

Their personalities and their touches.

Cold is what she needs, cold is what she craves.

Charlotte is feverish, and cold is what she desires.

The bathtub fills with ice cold water, chilly enough to wake the dead, and  
Charlotte thrusts her head under the turmoil.

It happens.

She feels the hands taking the form of the water droplets rolling down her  
neck and keeping her head under. They are pushing and fear is fire, running  
through her veins and she gasps.

Water fills her lungs.

Charlotte is on her knees, watching her hair float around her in a black  
cloud.

For a moment, the black seems to float away and the cloud is golden.

Her throat constricts and she inhales again, chokes, but the hands are  
shoving her down. She can feel the pressure on her neck, as real as the  
hard tile under her knees.

There is blood in the water and she is drowning.

Charlotte thrashes, and there are two hands on her shoulders that pull her  
backwards.

She falls, chest heaving, back onto the floor.

Charlotte stares at the ceiling for an eternity and the black fog in the  
back of her head whispers she should have never been lifted out.

There is no one behind her and Charlotte closes her eyes.

She has won this fight but there are many more, maybe too many for her.

When she wakes, there is a click in the front door lock and Charlotte runs.

She throws herself at the door, at Rim, clinging to his legs and begging.  
She pleads like she has never pleaded before and when he bends down to her,  
eyes gentle, asking what she needs, Charlotte erupts in a high, screeching  
laugh.

Rim stands.

He leaves her to sit on the floor and twist her fingers around a tuft of  
carpet while he picks up the phone and watches her.

Rim called in the morning and he is calling again, but he knows that Stein  
will not care. He will not mind because it is Charlotte, and even though  
Rim wishes he could be the one to help it is beyond his control now.

She asks him, the corners of her lips curling, if he is trying to get rid  
of her. Dispose of her because she is a problem.

A burden.

He tells her that she is not herself and brushes his hand along the scratch  
marks on her cheek.

Fire erupts along her face and the pounding, aching, lovely merciful  
headache she has gotten from the water disappears.

She swats his hand away and cries.

That is how Stein finds her when Rim lets him in, tears and fever and floor.

They both watch her for a minute before Stein bends down and presses a hand  
to her forehead.

He does not really need to, but the gesture is what she has been craving.

Stein's hand is so wonderfully cold and Charlotte presses her head up  
against it, leaning in to him with a pained breath leaving her throat.

He would speak the words she wants to hear but Rim is still standing there  
and he cannot comfort her yet, there is more pain and more aching footsteps  
for her to take.

They leave her on the floor because they both know she does not want to get  
up on her own, and she does not want to be picked up by Rim because he is  
too hot.

It will be Stein who comes to lift her up ten minutes later, his green eyes  
having completed his sweep of Charlotte's room and a few of her things  
inside his bag.

He says something to Rim but Charlotte does not care to figure it out. She  
just closes her eyes and swallows the bile in her throat, adjusting to the  
rocking motion of his steps.

When Charlotte's eyes open, the room is dim and his sheets are wonderfully  
cold.

Before she drifts off again, he makes her swallow three pills and a small  
glass of water. She does not listen to him at first, does not even move,  
but he makes her.

And then it is all silent except for the sound of his shirt landing on the  
floor and the sheets rustling.

She presses herself up against him because he is cold and he sighs, softly,  
his fingers ghosting over the scratches and a few stray pieces of black  
hair.

Then his lips brush over her ear, and he tells her what her broken mind  
needs to hear.

She belongs to him and he reminds her of that and also that she or he are  
not going anywhere, that he is there.

He never seems to get sick like she does.

Perhaps he is careless, lifting her chin to press his lips to hers. Maybe  
she should be resting and he knows what she needs.

He knows that she needs him and yes, rest, but not now. Not right now when  
his eyes have strayed to her empty seat in the classroom.

Their kisses and touches are feverish.

They slow because they feel like all the time in the world is in the  
delicate hourglass on his desk and he settles for brushing her hair behind  
her ear, one strand at a time, and she sleeps.

Charlotte does not like to be sick because she is like this, she is  
something that she does not want others to see.

But he would never call her a burden, he would never tell her she is a  
trouble.

He would be lying if he said she was too much.

Stein accepts her for everything she is because even in her darkest state  
he has been there, he knows what it is like. He is not unlike her and that  
is part of the intricate bond that pulls them together. They have something  
to share, even if it is horrifying and not to be talked about.

They are them, content and tired, and his lips ghost across her forehead  
once more before he slips into sleep.

His world would never be the same without her.


	35. Forbidden

He was not like the other tutors, and if Charlotte Williams was not smart perhaps suspicions would have been raised a long time ago.

Although she would be pleased when his Fridays came, the end of the week, saving the best for last, she showed no extra emotion when he came or went. Just the same for all the other tutors, nothing more, nothing less.

But she liked him.

He challenged her, made her think in a way no one else had, and Charlotte found that she could actually enjoy her lessons with him. He taught her Phasmology, something seemingly innapropriate for a young lady, save for the fact that the Williams family was one of the best kishin killing clans in the world.

She wasn't allowed to ask about his past.

But she heard rumors about Franken Stein, once that he had been a great kishin killer for the very orginization her family worked for. It intrigued her greatly, but no matter how much she pestered or persuaded, no words slipped his lips.

He was certaintly handsome, a strong jaw and moss-green eyes, a man in his young thirties but silver hair swung in his eyes. He wore glasses and was one of the most intelligent people in his day, and Charlotte favored him abover her other idiot tutors.

In some ways, his methods were unorthodox.

No other tutor was supposed to indirectly infuriate and insult their student, come nose-to-nose in a heated debate, and whack her on the ankle with a walking stick.

But Charlotte was smart, and the knowledge she craved was fueled more by him than anyone else. She loved his Fridays and although it crossed her mind that he had other students, other lessons, it filled her with a pleasant warmth to see his smile when they met.

She did not realize that she felt something else than just respect and admiration for the tall, scarred tutor until a long while after they had been together.

Her heart would flutter, skip a beat when he came close to her and even though Charlotte knew that it was terribly improper, wrong, forbidden...

She couldn't stay away.

Charlotte had a fianceé, a young man named Rim Shakre, and he was a lovely companion.

But she just didn't love him like she loved Franken Stein.

-o-o-o

"Think, Charlotte, think. I've told you this a thousand times."

"I'm trying, Professor." The raven-haired girl muttered through gritted teeth.

Her thoughts were somewhere else, upon last night's 'd been wandering about the castle like usual when they met, and then-

"Charlotte."

She jumped, her pencil rolling off the desk onto the floor. Stein stopped his slow pacing in front of the room with his hands behind his back and eyed her behind his glasses.

"You're quite distracted today."

"Sorry." She said quickly.

The corner of his mouth twitched.

"What ever has you so preoccupied?"

"Nothing, Professor. Just thinking."

"We only have an hour left and twenty more questions to go. Concentrate. I was aware that such a simple thing was not below a noble."

There he went again, and even though Charlotte knew that the jab was simply humour, it still made her cheeks burn.

"Sorry." She whispered, and focused on her textbook.

He waited, and resumed pacing.

Charlotte counted his footsteps and was wondering why they sounded so close when his breath brushed across her neck.

"Miss Willams." He said softly, trailing out each syllable.

She froze, and the blood rushing through her ears of pure embarrasment was so loud she swore he could hear it.

"Why are you so distracted?"

It was dead silent in the room, the only noise her breathing. Charlotte's cheeks were beet red and she was trying to find something to say when it just spilled out.

"You're distracting me, Professor."

He drew back, surprised.

"Me? How ever so?"

But the impulse had done its job and had now withdrawn, leaving her to find something to say on her ownm

"You just...well...the thing is, I'm not really supposed to say..."

She said the last part quietly.

He waved a hand around the empty room, save for the two of them.

"We are alone, Charlotte, and you know that you can tell me anything and I will not repeat it."

"This is different!"

"Different than the time you confessed you wanted to end your own life? Different then when you told me that you only loved Mr. Shakre as a friend? Different from when you relayed the information that you were the one who broke the priceless vase on the third floor, not the cook?"

She stood up in her chair sharply, the wood making a loud screech against the stone.

Stein stopped, but a taunting smile was left upon his face. He knew he had won.

"You bastard." Charlotte whispered, and she could feel hot tears rise in her eyes. "This is still different, this is about you and me, this is about how I can't fucking help that I'm in love!"

He did not reprimand her for swearing.

"With?" He prompted gently.

Stein knew that she wasn't in love with Rim but she had never told him that she had found someone else.

"You."

The small clock on the desk clicked, signifying the end of their session.

However, neither moved, Charlotte's hand frozen on the back of the chair and him motionless at the front of the room.

"Charlotte." He started.

She ran.

Tears rolled down her cheeks because she just knew he thought she was a freak. She knew that he would ask to change students and she would never be able to look him in the eye again.

He grabbed her wrist and spun her just as it started to rain, his eyes searching her face.

Charlotte cried while the skies opened the floodgates.

She didn't remember any movement, but suddenly his lips were pressed to hers and she was scared because they were in plain sight.

But he didn't care.

Stein pulled her closer to him, the water droplets sliding down his face falling onto hers.

He didn't need to say anything or even hide them from the watchful eyes of the guards, because he was intelligent enough to know where to stand in the rain.

"I'm flattered." Stein murmured into her ear, and Charlotte's laugh rang in the air.


	36. Tessellate(sf)

**A/N: This one is a little severe, but still T. **_  
_

**"Tessellate" by Alt-J.**

**-o-o-o**

_Bite chunks out of me_

_You're a shark and I'm swimming_

_My heart still thumps as I bleed_

_And all your friends come sniffing_

The first time Stein had used a scalpel, it both intrigued and frightened him. The way the flesh slit open-like butter, almost, and the way the blood gushed out all over his fingers.

The first time Stein had Charlotte under his blade, he was grinning, watching her heart beat in his hand. There was no fear, no nothing-just her and him.

When he had just let her go, just left her in peace, just ended her life-it all went to hell and there were people everywhere.

Rim's eyes were rimmed with red.

_Go alone my flower_

_And keep the whole lovely you_

_Wild green stones alone my lover_

_And keep us on my heart_

Each night when he watched her walk off, boots placing themselves down on the stones of the road, a part of him wondered what would happen if she fell.

If she fell alone, with no one there to hold her hand.

"_Lovely_." his words trailed past her ear, one last whisper before she slipped into darkness.

Her eyes were still open.

_Three guns and one goes off_

_One's empty, one's not quick enough_

_One burn, one red, one grin_

_Search the graves while the camera spins_

He found her first.

She had the gun pressed to her temple and two more were on the floor.

Charlotte cocked her head, as if inviting him to join her.

He did.

And then poor Spirit, between the two of them, swinging the gun around, not sure who to aim at.

"Drop it, you both." he said shakily.

Charlotte felt like she was on fire, her skin was heating up and hot tears were welling up behind her eyelids.

Spirit's red hair glinted in the little light that penetrated the room, and Stein just kept grinning.

His face was aching from keeping the mask on so long, but soon it would all be over. Peace.

One gun went off.


	37. Sunday Morning(sf)

**A/N: Sunday Morning by Maroon 5 :3**

-o-o-o

Sunday_ morning, rain is falling_

_Steal some covers, share some skin_

_Clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable_

_You twist to fit the mold that I am in_

Weekends were like little blessings.

It meant sleeping in, late breakfasts(he would actually be able to persuade her to eat) nothing to do all day.

The sunlight would stream through the curtains and the rare bird would be chirping outside the window, and it was peacefully, mercifully quiet.

Whatever clouds had come over their week, whatever struck, there was always Sunday morning where he would sleep in and find her pressed up against him, the worried crease between her brows smoothed out.

_But things just get so crazy, living life gets hard to do_

_And I would gladly hit the road, get up and go_

_If I knew that someday it would lead me back to you_

_That someday it would lead me back to you_

Sundays were like the calm before the next week's storm, a time to rest their aching muscles when it got overwhelming.

_That may be all I need_

_In darkness, she is all I see_

_Come and rest your bones with me_

_Driving slow on Sunday morning_

_And I never want to leave_

Sometimes, he would wake in the middle of the night, moss green eyes focusing on the pale outline of her face in the darkness.

They usually slept late and rose early. There was the DWMA to go to and things to work on at night, but on Sunday, they could sleep early and rise late.

It really was quite hard to get up on Sundays.

_Fingers trace your every outline_

_Paint a picture with my hands_

_Back and forth we sway like branches in a storm_

_Change the weather, still together when it ends_

His fingertips would ghost over the bridge of her nose, over her lips, brushing a stray piece of black hair behind her ear.

When he was with her, he was an artist, creating a picture as beautiful as she.

They would pick each other up until Sunday came, and even when it was over, his fingers would still be laced through hers.

_Find a way to bring myself back home to you_

And he would always come back to her.

Their Sundays were special, and he wouldn't miss it for the world.


	38. Little Black Submarines(sf)

__**A/N: Little Black Submarines by The Black Keys.**

_-o-o-o_

_Little black submarines_

_Operator please_

_Put me back on the line_

_Told my girl I'd be back_

_Operator please_

_This is wrecking my mind_

She depended on him, even though he told her not to in a broken voice. He told her not to because he could barely depend on himself.

Yet some part of him sought to do the best he could to make her dream come true.

_Oh, can it be_

_The voices calling me_

_They get lost and out of time_

It was like being in a haze.

He could hear them all calling to him on both sides, to succumb, to come back, to give in, to fight.

It was almost like he was back on the island, in the magnetic field, the winds swirling around him in a deathly howl.

_Pick you up, let you down_

_When I want to go_

_To a place I can hide_

_You know me, I had plans_

_But they just disappeared_

_To the back of my mind_

He would forget things sometimes, and so would she. Things would just slip their notice, go to the haze in the back of their mind, and it would be forgotten.

Important things, like eating.

_Treasure maps, fallen trees_

_Operator please_

_Call me back when it's time_

_Stolen friends and disease_

_Operator please_

_Patch me back to my mind_

She was his anchor, his operator, pulling him to sanity when he needed it most.

He needed her to heal, to be patched back up.

And he would do the same for her.


	39. Duo Post Unis

Unis.

-o-o

There was something about danger and adrenaline that Charlotte Williams craved.

And maybe that was why she desired to have him.

He was dangerous, mad, everything that her normal suitors were not(she found them dreadfully boring) and everything that Charlotte could not have.

They could never be together.

Ever.

If their relationship was discovered-there was no telling what could happen. He could be hanged, she could be grounded to her room for years.

Not that she hadn't already broken that rule.

-o-o

Her maid was actually quite crafty.

Kate Birch was the seemly obedient family maid on the outside, but as a young girl she had felt the same as Charlotte did now.

Charlotte Williams wanted to fly.

Kate would sew up her dresses and skirts when Charlotte came home with them torn, barely still attached, dirt smeared all over her cheeks. She stole men's clothes from the butlers, tailored them to Charlotte's size, and kept them in a secret compartment in the raven-haired girl's wardrobe.

It started as soon as Charlotte could walk-she wanted to go outside and do things. No lessons, no tutors, just to run.

And of course, that was never allowed.

So she snuck out, changing her clothes and leaving in the middle of the night to see the world.

Charlotte raced with the town's poor teens, swam in the river, ate with their families, played with cats and dogs, and ran in the streets.

She would come home dirty, bleeding, and happy.

Kate sewed her clothes and tended her wounds, fear always remaining in her heart that they would get hurt.

And one starry, cold night-she met Franken Stein.

Anyone with good enough eyes could tell from the way Charlotte talked and walked that she hadn't grown up on the streets even though she was as close as one could be with some of the teens.

He was one of the first who just knew.

It intrigued him to find out what she was doing and who she was.

He was a scientist, a doctor, doing fine, but since his best friend's family was poor and he helped them out a bit, he spent time around the other poor families.

He heard her name in passing and it did come as quite a shock when he found out she was a noble.

One night she came down to the square as usual-but nobody was there except him.

"There was a curfew put out." He said slowly, eyes on his fingernails.

"Oh." She said quietly, shifting awkwardly. "Erm, I'll just..."

"It's interesting." He continued. "That you wouldn't have heard about it. Every family that lives down here was told."

"I don't...really live down here."

"Where do you live, Miss Williams?"

She did not ask how he knew her name because Charlotte already knew that he had her secret.

She didn't have to answer, either.

"Why?" He asked simply.

Charlotte gave a small, shaky laugh. "You wouldn't believe how suffocating it is. Everyone is so stiff and proper and I hate it."

He nodded, and a corner of his mouth twitched up.

"Who're you?"

"Franken Stein, doctor."

"It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise."

And that was it.

She saw him around when she came down, and would smile, a smile saved for him. He had a few more opportunities to talk to her alone, but nothing really changed between them until a week later.

She was almost caught.

Charlotte was walking home alone, and one of her family's guard dogs caught her scent. The guard turned his lantern in her direction, saw her face, and Charlotte had to turn and bolt.

They were chasing her, someone out after curfew, and breaths were ripping from her chest and tears leaking from her eyes. If she was caught, it would all be over.

She almost smashed into his chest.

He grabbed her arm, noticing the panic on her face, and she ripped it away and kept running. Charlotte could not stop, but he followed.

"This way!"

She followed his shout and turned down an alley and it would have been a dead end except for the slight crack of light under a door.

Charlotte flew inside and slammed it, hands shaking. When he cleared his throat she turned.

With a small smile, he gestured to their surroundings.

"Welcome to Patchwork."

The shop wasn't very comely, but Charlotte didn't care.

"Thank you." She finally breathed out.

He nodded.

"What are you going to do?"

"I can't exactly go back now...the area will be crawling with guards."

"You're welcome to stay the night."

A blush lit up her cheeks and Charlotte was glad the room was dim.

"Yes, please. Thanks."

She was shaken, and he let her sit down and even made her some tea.

"Do you live alone?"

"Are you engaged?" He shot back.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Personal question for a personal question."

She blushed again.

"Sorry. And no, not yet."

"I do."

There was silence.

"You're welcome to sleep whenever you'd like." He said gently. "Just let me know, so I can make the bed up."

"You've an extra?" She asked, surprised.

"No." He said pleasantly.

There was fire in her cheeks.

"No! I can't take your bed! It's yours! I'm fine with the floor!"

"Miss Williams." He said, cutting her off. "I insist."

She kept protesting and maybe even got into a little argument with him.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, he closed the gap between them, cutting off her argument, and pressed his lips to hers.

She was eighteen, still getting a taste of the world, and Charlotte was scared. She was scared where this was going and what was about to happen, his hands slipping lower and lower on her back.

"If you want me to stop," he murmured, "just say."

The rational part of her was yelling to stop, but that was the thing.

She didn't want him to stop.

There was something between them that Charlotte didn't have with anyone else-his intelligence challenged hers, he teased her to the point of utter frustration, he was cold and she loved him.

Stein's jacket and coat were on the floor and he had gotten her pressed up against the wall, smirking around the kiss.

He asked her, again, if she was sure and told her flat out that there was no going back. He told her she would never be able to forget or change it, that it would hurt and that she was young, she could pick someone else.

But Charlotte didn't want anyone else.

-o-o-o

She woke up the next morning in a bed that was not her own, and for a moment she panicked.

"When do you've to go back?"

Charlotte rolled over to face him, his eyes still half closed.

"What time is it?"

He was quiet for a long moment except for the rustling of the sheets.

"Early."

"Well, that's descriptive." Charlotte teased.

She felt his arms snake around her body. Memories of last night filled her mind until Charlotte could think of nothing else but how hard it would be to walk back.

Her whole body ached.

"I've lessons today at noon, though." She said softly.

"Mmm." He murmured into her neck.

She really did not want to get up, and so Charlotte drifted back off to sleep.

-o-o-o

The raven-haired noble woke up in a carriage, traveling steadily along, heading towards her manor.

She jolted up in her seat.

He was dressed handsomely, waistcoat and top hat and all. Charlotte felt a blush rising to her cheeks before she realized that she was wearing her dress again.

Corset and everything.

"How did you..."

He winks and tips his hat, the brim lowering over moss green eyes. "Trade secrets, my dear."

She is still staring, wanting to ask if he is crazy, but then they arrive.

Kate, her maid, rushes out to greet her, emotion whirling through her eyes.

"Where have you been?" She demands.

"Allow me to explain." Stein starts. "Miss Williams dropped a pile of laundry out her window, I believe, and was trying to get it when she was pursued. She cut herself and I happened to be nearby. It was quite late and I didn't want to wake everyone up."

Charlotte was amazed at the way the lie slipped over his lips, how utterly unruffled or nervous he looked.

Kate glanced at her, and Charlotte quickly forced her face into a smile.

"I assure you no harm came to her."

"Well, thank you, Doctor." Kate said slowly. "Would you like to come in?"

"I have to decline." He smiled. "Thank you, but I have patients to attend to."

"If you hold on a minute, I'll go fetch your compensation."

"That won't be necessary. It was my pleasure."

Now Charlotte was really red, and her abdomen throbbed harder than ever, as if it was reminding her.

If anyone ever found out what had happened...well, that would not be good.

Gallantly, Stein stepped out of the carriage and helped Charlotte out, sending her a wink before he climbed back in.

"Thank you again, sir!" Kate called.

He tipped his hat, and as the door swung shut with a click the carriage slowly pulled away.

-o-o

"I can't believe this, Charlotte!" Kate hissed, hurrying beside the youngest member of the Williams family. "You stayed out all night, I had to cover for you!"

"I'm sorry!" She burst out. "I just...lost track of time-"

"Lost track of time?" Kate screeched. "It was all night! What the hell where you doing?"

"Like he said." Charlotte responded quietly, bowing her head. "I really am sorry, Kate."

Kate gave a great huff and held her nose in the air all the way back to Charlotte's bedroom, trying to hide a smile.

-o-o

Duo.

-o-o

Kate's smile was like a ghost.

It had faded and only remained a shadow on Charlotte's memory, like an extinguished flame.

Kate was dead.

Executed, on a day where it rained and Charlotte was forced to watch with the water rolling down her skin and her arms and legs shackled in chains.

She watched the majority of her whole family die.

It was pure luck that she managed to get away when her captors had their guard down.

It was pure luck that she wasn't a broken down, shivering mess.

Charlotte felt like she might become one if she stopped running and stopped moving, allowed her mind to dwell back to the things she was forced to do to get her escape and because they thought it was sick fun.

It was lucky she had lived on the streets for half of her life when she was younger, or else she would have died early on.

Charlotte Williams was now twenty-one years old, and the last two to three years of her life had been absolute hell.

Her family manor was taken over by a group of rouges 'ridding the world' of her kind, and Charlotte's family was slaughtered. Men first, women kept for later.

Charlotte's clothes were torn and ripped, and she was smudged with dirt and dried blood all over. Her black hair had lost its former luster and hung limply around her hollow cheeks.

She was starving.

Her body craved food, a new sensation, and she was exhausted and aching and thirsty.

Charlotte was unrecognizable.

No one would touch her, she was seen as another common beggar.

-oo-o

Charlotte did not remember Franken Stein well because her mind was deteriorating. The random bouts of shrieking laughter in the middle of the night drove the other beggars in her area away, and her mind would go fuzzy, forgetting things.

She was going to die.

Charlotte could not support herself anymore, she had no one to go to, and so her body was giving out.

She was thin as a stick and pale as snow, dry throat and haunted eyes.

Charlotte did not even know where she was. She had just run as fast and as far as she could, not paying attention to where she was going.

And when her feet were cracked and bleeding and she could not run anymore, she collapsed on the street and prayed to whatever god that was still left that they would not find her.

They didn't, but it was an unfamiliar world.

-o-o

Charlotte was an inch from death, but her mind didn't realize it. She thought she was already dead because there was no way someone would touch her.

There was no possible way someone's touch could be so light and soft, ghosting over her cheek and leaving a trail of warmth behind.

"Jesus, Charlotte."

Even the voice was gentle, curving around the syllables in her name.

"I've been looking for you for two years."

Charlotte burst into tears.

-o-o-o

The rhythm of his walking melded smoothly into the small bumps the carriage made, the familiar carriage.

He was not afraid to touch her and was the only one left she had.

She felt his hand brush over the rips in her clothes, the blood, the grime, her head in his lap.

He would still take her, after two years.

When they got back to his house(same one) he ran her a bath and while Charlotte was scrubbing herself raw, he brought her something to eat.

It was not much and she gulped it down, but almost immediately after Charlotte felt sick.

"Take it easy." he said, resting a hand briefly on her head. "You are safe."

Stein did not ask what happened but he did not need to, he could easily figure it out himself that Charlotte had lost everything.

"I can't pay." she managed around a dry tongue.

He scoffed.

She flinched at the noise and tensed, waiting to be picked up and thrown out the back door.

The only touch she got was his lips pressing softly to her forehead.

"I don't care about that, Charlotte."

-o-o

She woke with a start, her first night in two years waking up in a real bed.

It was still dark, a few rays of moonlight sifting through the curtains.

He sat up nearly in sync with her, rubbing his eyes wearily.

"Are you okay, Charlotte?"

It took her a second to nod slowly, surely, and then she slid slowly back down under the blankets, her broken mind latching on to the only thing she could now call home.


	40. Deny

The walls were falling.

"Charlotte, please!'

So strong, he was, always her pillar of light.

Always the one to hold her up, always the sturdy one, and now she could hear that cracking panic in his voice, that desperate tone.

Stones were splitting and falling all around them and everything was collapsing, coming down around them because Charlotte was not like him. She couldn't do it.

Not anymore.

Not another day.

"Charlotte!"

His voice sounded distorted, like she was underwater, and when she turned to look at him he was hazy, almost see-through.

Maybe she was in Switzerland.

That would be nice.

Maybe just back at the lab-oh, she remembered now. Charlotte knew where she was.

Dying in a pool of her own blood on the floor.

In this cave that was splitting and the floor was sinking and breaking, her wrists still dripped blood and it bubbled over her lips. Charlotte could feel his touch on her skin, real and warm like the sun, her sun, but the sparking, fizzing illusion was fading away. He was not really there.

So was this what she really was, all this time?

In a cave?

Her mind had taken on many different scenes over the years.

A cage.

A bird, chained to a snapping dog, doomed to die once its wings broke.

His bed, with the moonlight coming through the curtains and her walking alone, circling, eyes avoiding the form under the bed.

"Charlotte, stay with me."

His voice vibrated around her, echoing and crashing in the nooks and crannies of the rock. One landed an inch from her toes, breaking into smaller pieces and covering her feet with dust.

Red liquid dripped onto the ground.

Charlotte was dying because she was not strong like he wanted her to be. She could not be strong for him, not for her, not for anybody.

He expected her to be something she could not.

It had gone on too long, this illusion that everything was going to be okay. It was only a matter of time before the last few gears fell from her clock and Charlotte was finally too broken to make herself take another breath.

There was a snap, a wave of heat, and she saw him for a brief second, back in her real body, hot and prickly and hazy, his hands working over her wrists and something clear and glistening, one single drop, rolling down his cheek.

Charlotte spoke.

"Let me go."

But he wouldn't.

He couldn't let her go because her roots were deep within him, tied to him, and Charlotte was part of him.

"You are strong, Charlotte, hold on."

The walls were falling.

"For me."

She cried as his illusion was crushed by a falling boulder.

Charlotte was not like anybody else and she would always be alone in this world.

Another snap, something cracking in her body, and Charlotte was falling.

The floor dropped beneath her and even though it was not real the sensation was nearly making her vomit.

A wave of heat, passing through her eyes, pain, and Charlotte was back.

Her bloody fingers rose, shakily, to drag across his cheek, leaving a spotted trail.

He stopped and looked at her for a second, torn, and then almost automatically his hands kept working.

"I am not strong."

"You need to be. You have to be. Don't you get it, _damn it?"_

The corners of her mouth curled up and he smashed his lips to hers, anything to get that look off her face, because in his mind Charlotte was not leaving.

There was no ground beneath her, she would keep falling for eternity as she slowly drifted away.

Wrong.

A painful shock wracked her body, back arching, and a scream ripped out of her throat.

"I'm sorry." he said, softly, cruel and horrible to her and she _hated him_-

"You don't hate me."

Was she speaking out loud?

No, no, but he knew her. He knew what she thought and that made Charlotte despise him even more.

He did not really understand, he was kissing her, anything to get that look off her face.

But he did not know.

Charlotte was sane.


	41. Guide

**A/N: This chapter is...well, we all know what Stein is like.**

**The last anatomy sentence is from Zlo1313, in her 'Freakish B' fic, and I loved it so much that I wanted to put it in XD **

**-o-o-o**

Rim cared, maybe too much.

A normal person should have just let it go, dismissed it as a bad day, but Rim had trained himself to be aware of every little thing that went on with Charlotte.

And even when she was slightly off, he noticed.

She was walking out the door, fingers twitching and he saw right through her too-wide smile.

"Where are you going?"

"Lab."

"When'll you be back?"

"Tomorrow."

"Charlotte!" Rim called, indignant, but the door had already slammed.

He was left standing there in the silence.

With a rush of resignation, Rim suddenly snatched his coat and opened the door. He was going after Charlotte.

He needed to find out what was going on.

-o-o

When he got to the lab, it was quiet.

There was a strange doll-thing on the cement, but Rim didn't stop to look. He had a feeling it would probably haunt his dreams.

Raising a fist, he banged on the door.

A cackle came from somewhere upstairs.

Rim pushed the door, finding it open, and warily stepped inside. He knew that if Stein or Charlotte were mad that they were about as dangerous as the evolved version of anything he could think of.

But Charlotte was his meister, and if she was in trouble, he would find her no matter the cost.

Laughter, high and piercing, came from another part of the lab, and Rim couldn't tell if it was male or female. Steeling his nerves, he walked forward and almost immediately felt a rush of air near his right ear.

Automatically, Rim ducked out of the way and his arm transformed into a blade in a flash of light, swinging towards the offending object.

There was nothing there and for a moment Rim panicked, wondering if the aura of the lab was making him go mad.

He took a deep breath. He had to get a grip.

Suddenly, Rim's head shot up, and he noticed Stein casually leaning against the kitchen door frame his outline shrouded in black. The glow of a cigarette faded in and out, a trail of smoke lifted up to the ceiling.

"Professor Stein?"

"Hello, Mr. Shakre."

"Where's Charlotte?"

Stein slowly walked forwards, a smile creeping across his lips.

"Upstairs."

"Was she the one laughing?" Rim demanded, his fists curling into balls. "I need her back, Professor."

"Whatever for?" Stein remarked. "We were having fun."

"Your idea of fun is most likely not the same as mine, Professor." Rim said quietly. "There's something I need to talk to Charlotte about."

"I can tell when you're lying."

There was a hard edge to Stein's tone, something menacing and dangerous, and every instinct in Rim's body was telling him to run.

But if there was something wrong with both of them, he couldn't leave Charlotte.

Memories of what had happened the last time Charlotte and Stein's madness was combined were rushing through his head, but Rim set his jaw.

They were both still in there, somewhere.

If he tried to rush Stein, he would be dead before he hit the floor. Rim knew that he couldn't be stupid, it was time to pull out the reasoning skills.

Before he could even make a decision, another figure shrouded in black appeared behind Stein. The figure's shoulders were hunched and something that looked like a blanket was slipping off one shoulder.

"Charlotte?"

The...the _thing_ grinned, showing off several rows of sharp teeth, and Rim knew in an instant that he should have listened to his gut. Charlotte had turned into that unspeakable demon, and even though it hurt to refer to his meister in that form, it was just what it was.

Where her blue eyes should have been glittering, there was only darkness.

Stein's chuckle slowly filled the laboratory until it was almost shrieking.

-o-o-o-o

Rim woke to feel like he had been shot.

His head was aching, almost as bad as what he imagined a hangover would feel like, almost like a sledgehammer was smashing into his skull.

There was burning in his stomach, but it hurt too much to lift his head.

If Rim strained his senses, there was something dripping off of the cold metal table that he was shackled to.

A wave of nausea rose up in his stomach.

"Easy, now." came a voice from behind him.

Something hard, metal, tapped on the bridge of his nose, and rivulet of blood ran down his cheek.

The tool was pulled away, and his head throbbed harder than ever, as if it was trying to tell him something.

"What are you doing?"

His voice was shaky, cracking, pure fear like Rim had never experienced.

"Only-"

"Is that Charlotte?"

Rim's voice rose into a high octave as he lifted a trembling finger as high as the restraints would allow, pointing at a form under a sheet lying on a table near him.

"Oh, no. Just a side project. She's right over there, actually."

Stein rolled the table over a little so Rim could see his meister, huddled in a corner of the lab with something glittering clutched in her first.

The scientist tsked.

"Running away with one of my scalpels again."

Blood covered most of Charlotte's pale flesh, several open cuts still gushing blood.

In a shard of glass, part of a broken mirror that lay by Charlotte's feet, Rim could finally see what Stein was doing.

He did not move, his eyes frozen, his mind telling him that his eyes were wrong, that it was not true, that there was no way someone would be insane enough to give him brain surgery.

"You..._S-STOP!" _Rim's voice rose high in a shrill scream. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

"Experimenting." Stein replied calmly. "No need to get so worked up, Rim. I only want a bit of your hypothalamus."

"Please." his voice shook. "Just stop. Sew me back up. Please."

"I was simply wondering," Stein continued, "What would happen if I could change the mood. Or your sleep cycles. Possibly how hungry you are, or how much energy you have. How does that sound?"

"Fucking insane."

"I could make you submit to my will or never be energetic enough to run away."

Charlotte stood, swaying slightly, blood bubbling over her pale lips.

"I could alter your memories, Rim. Stimulate your amygdala, make you so afraid of anyone that you could have a heart attack in pure terror."

"Make him forget." Charlotte spoke, her voice dull and lifeless.

"Ah, the hippocampus. Nice choice, my dear."

Rim pleaded, desperate.

"I would still have loved to examine more, but after all, it is what the lady wants."

Fire erupted in his leg, Charlotte's scalpel embedded in his flesh.

"This is only the beginning, Mr. Shakre. Did you ever muse that hanging yourself by the twenty feet of your small intestine would be a unique way to go out?"

Rim fainted, the last breath he would ever take escaping from his lips in a rush.


	42. Worth Nothing, You Are Mine

He always told her she was worthless.

Charlotte never really thought about it, it was just one thing he would whisper to her at night, one more thing to keep her with him.

He did not like it when she left in the morning.

Lurking around the bed, kitchen, bathroom, he would stare at her as she gathered her things, and her skin would prickle.

One time he threatened her, with a kitchen knife, told her that if she dared leave he would kill her.

Charlotte clutched her bag and didn't leave.

That was the only time, though, the others he would just come up behind her and make her jump a little, his long arms wrapping around her slim waist(his fault) and nuzzling her neck, asking her to stay with him.

She would pull away, tell him to shave, and go to work.

Charlotte Williams would sit at her desk, fingers clenching around her purse, and stare at her computer while typing and talking went on around her.

This was her life.

-o-o-o

Franken Stein was one of the only teachers left in the world that taught Phasmology. To keep teaching, he had to take on another subject, Biology, but for those special few that came along he would pass it on.

Charlotte was eighteen when she came to his college, eyes electric blue, hair like night, skin like snow, and a tongue like fire.

On her first day, they got in a fight.

It was after class, she had a few questions, and it ended up in a giant shouting match. He found it quite fun to rile her up, get a rise, and he also thought her beautiful.

Years and years of school for Charlotte Williams, smart and witty and broken.

Stein knew there was something off with her from day one. Something about her was just not quite right-and he found out what it was when she nearly took his eye out with a bloody beaker.

He was staying late to grade and finally locking up, walking along the lonely halls with heels clicking, and he heard a crash in one of the labs.

Stein stepped in.

A beaker, shattered, was thrown at his head and he barely moved out of the way in time, his eyes focusing on a hysterical Charlotte who would not let him get near.

He did, anyway, even though she socked him in the jaw.

They sat for a few hours, tears cascading down her cheeks and him steadily reading her the textbook because he had nothing else.

It was quite dark when she hiccuped, done, and he helped her up.

"I'm so sorry."

She knew that he would think her a freak, never look at her in the same way again.

Stein could not explain that he was the same at times but the simple fact that he did not treat her like a piece of glass made Charlotte trust him more than ever.

He called a taxi for her and rode with her to her apartment, walking with her up the stairs and waiting as she fumbled with her keys.

"Thank you." she said simply, and he nodded.

They did not speak of it again, but there was something between them that made them close and special in a way he had never been with anyone else.

She graduated college.

Stein took Charlotte out to dinner, after eight years she had still stayed in the science field.

"So, what are you going to do?" Stein asked, swirling his wine.

"I want to be a journalist." Charlotte said finally.

Stein nearly spat out his wine.

"I thought you said journalism."

"I did."

He laughed.

Charlotte looked offended, her fists clenching, and she put down her fork.

"That's fucking great, Charlotte, you're going to be amazing. But why all the science, then?"

"I like science."

"You should've gone to a journalism school. Eight years in the medical field-"

"I know what I'm going to do, Professor."

He chuckled. "You don't have to call me that anymore, my dear."

"It would feel weird to call you anything else."

"Dessert?"

"No thanks."

"Still going on with that, are we?"

Charlotte was quiet.

He sighed.

"You're wearing that for a reason, Charlotte, you look beautiful and everyone knows it. It's why Rim bought you the damn dress."

She only shook her head.

"It's uncomfortable."

"Take it off, then."

The words had left his mouth before he could even register what he was saying.

Charlotte turned bright red, her cheeks flaming, and she stared at her plate, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

"I didn't mean that. But are you really so offended? It is _me_, after all, you've only known me for eight years-"

"Shut up!" Charlotte exploded, throwing her napkin down on her plate. "Just stop!"

She left the restaurant.

He sat there for a few minutes, her departure sinking in, and then he suddenly got up and ran after her.

"Charlotte!"

It was raining.

He actually didn't have to go far, she was outside, huddling against the wall like a lost puppy.

"I'm sorry." he said finally, shrugging off his suit jacket and draping it around her shoulders. She clutched it, inhaling the smell of smoke.

Charlotte didn't meet his eyes.

"When you say things like that, Professor," her lips pulled up in a shaky smile, "It makes it so hard."

He waited.

"I'm in love."

"Tell him. And I'll stop, I promise."

"With you." she finished.

"Oh."

Stein shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"Well, fuck it."

He stepped forward and smashed his lips to hers, water droplets rolling off their skin and her expensive dress was getting soaked but Charlotte didn't care.

-o-oo

Twenty-seven year old Charlotte bumped into someone at Starbucks, spilling coffee down their front.

Her hands flew to her mouth.

"I'm so sorry!"

She looked up into his wistful smile.

"My, my."

Charlotte's jaw dropped and she swung her camera over her shoulder, clutching his hand and dragging him down to sit.

His eyes were haunted, disturbed, and he needed to shave.

They talked and Charlotte was late to work by a few hours, but with the pictures on her camera her boss forgot all about it.

She said she would come over after work, and she did, to his same house.

It had only been a year but it felt like forever, him still teaching and her working as a journalist.

She still lived with Rim while he dabbled in photography, Charlotte busy and wearing lipstick and living.

He had sort of gone downhill.

Without her there was a kind of emptiness and once she had gone off to work he wanted to run after her and tell her to never come, never get near him, but he needed her too much.

He knew what was going to happen.

Stein would reel Charlotte in, attatch her to his life and never let go.

And that was how it started.

-o-o

Charlotte would wake up early in the morning, body aching, exhausted, and take a shower.

She would get ready for work.

Charlotte didn't wear lipstick anymore, not after the day she first saw him again. No one knew why, and no one ever asked.

She would go to work, say goodbye to Rim and skip breakfast, get a cup of tea at work and type away until lunch.

Lunch, she would go somewhere.

It didn't matter, anywhere, usually a bookstore where she would look for something.

Once she saw someone and he smiled at her, flipping through the pages of one of her favorite and before she could smile Charlotte shrunk away.

It was him.

Charlotte was thin, thinner than ever and she loved it, thanked him for helping her.

Then back to work and after it she would go to his house.

It was months and months of him opening the door before she could knock, yanking her wrist and shoving her up against the wall, hands greedily running over her skin and his mouth hungry on hers.

Months and months of this, and Charlotte slapped him.

She couldn't take it anymore.

After he would kiss her, he would make her dinner and they would talk about her writing.

They would have wine.

Months and months of this, and Charlotte was lifeless.

Motionless when he kissed her, motionless as he pulled her exhausted body close to his, motionless as she stared at dinner.

She slapped him after months and he stopped, pulling back, staring at her.

He always needed to shave.

Charlotte told him that her skin crawled, that she did not want to kiss, she did not want to feel him so close to her, she did not want to eat dinner or want to be near him, she did not want to go to work or go to the bookstore or live.

Charlotte wanted to die.

He thought she was going mad and she screamed, told him that he was insane. He was normal-looking but there was something off about him, something dangerous, and she felt like he would kill her one day.

He threatened her, kissed her, he was so intoxicating but she was suffocating.

Charlotte took the kitchen knife and they wrestled, she won by some small chance and drove it into her body.

The last thing she remembered was the hospital.

-o-o-o

And just like that, he fell out of her life.

She never saw him again.

Rim did not know what happened and why she was suddenly in the hospital, Charlotte went home and things were okay.

Work, bookstore, work.

Home.

He was missing from her life, just absent, and Charlotte never went a way that passed by his house. She wanted to forget about Franken Stein.

And she did, slowly.

-o-o-o

Quinn got into a motorcycle accident.

Rim went to see his brother and he was a little concerned about leaving Charlotte alone, he wanted her to stay with a friend, but Charlotte assured him that she would be fine.

Something was wrong with her mind and it was raining, midnight, as she stood outside of her apartment building and cried.

Her keys were gone, somewhere, and Charlotte cried.

A suit jacket was draped around her shoulders and Charlotte automatically gripped it, inhaling the scent of smoke.

She whirled.

He was there, drenched, taxi door open behind him, engine idling.

"Come on, Charlotte."

She was so scared, shaking, and sat far away from him, but there was something different in his moss green eyes.

It reminded her of the first day they met.

He talked in a low voice while the taxi drove through the lonely streets, telling her how he had been gone from New York City.

He went to see his old friend, Spirit.

There, he met Marie, a teacher, and she was practicing a new type of therapy.

Stein had paid so much.

But it worked, it worked, and he was teaching again.

He told her he was killing himself inside, that he had even tried.

"If you're expecting me to feel sorry for you-" Charlotte started in a shaky voice.

"No."

She let him continue.

And by the end of his story she did not want to forget about Franken Stein anymore.

He did not have a lot of money left-barely anything, barely enough to live on, but he said he would do anything to be able to live like a normal human being again.

Under house-arrest was like being in prison, he said, and his lungs needed fresh air, the air of the world.

Their trust was broken, her faith in him shattered, but in the silence of the taxi, his fingers slowly closed over hers.

She squeezed his hand.

He asked her if she wanted him to make up the guest bed and Charlotte did not answer because she did not really want to think about it, she was not really ready to answer.

Charlotte was tentative.

Her lips slowly pressed to his, scared, heart beating a mile a minute, old memories rushing to the surface.

And it was like they had never been.

He was gentle, slow, hands on her waist, trailing up her back and threading through her hair, kissing like their first.

Charlotte had missed him.

She had missed how they used to be, how he used to be, not her life lived in terror.

Charlotte had missed this.

They did not have dinner, but he got her a bowl of pretzels and a cup of tea, her favorite snack.

He remembered.

He had shaved.

In the middle of the night Charlotte turned to face him, her nose touching his, and she snuggled into him with his arm placed around her waist.

Stein fell asleep just after she did, watching her lids slowly close and her breathing slow.

Charlotte died at one in the morning, and Stein was the only one to wake up.


	43. Something Good(sf)

**A/N: Something Good by Alt-J.**

**Lyrics are slightly edited on this one :3**

**-o-o-o**

_Something good, oh, something good_

_Oh, something good_

_Something good tonight will make me forget about you_

Stein rarely ever resorted to Spirit's methods of escaping the world, drowning himself in drink, but it was when he did that he really drunk.

He had to do something to escape Charlotte invading his mind.

_Forty eight thousand seas, please_

_And roars for my memories of you_

_Now that I'm fully clean_

_The matador is no more and is dragged from view_

Not being mad anymore was like being able to breathe, and that was the first thing he did, take a big inhale of the crisp night air.

His memories of Charlotte were fuzzy, a little hazy, filled with blood and an unpleasant sick feeling of what he had done to her.

They would just have to make new ones, better ones.


	44. Electric

It could be, perhaps, that Stein is taking Charlotte out to dinner because she has scored high on her finals.

But truthfully he does not really need a reason to take her out. He will do it anyway, for no reason.

He arranges dinner on a yacht, the harbor a long ways away from where they live in isolated Death City, but it will be worth it.

It is evening, the sun setting and casting rays of orange, gold, red, and yellow across the sky. It reflects in the dark ripples of the water, lapping against the sides of the boat where the other passengers are boarding.

But Stein is truimphant, having secured the top front deck for himself and Charlotte only.

His position and intimidating demeanor do come in handy.

Charlotte arrives, hair held up with an elegant clip, light blue dress that matches her eyes. She is electric, beautiful, and his.

She is pleasantly surprised and her cheeks glow with excitement as she bounces in place, waiting to board, and she thanks him a thousand times over.

They finally get to their table, a small little candle in the center that smells like roses, and he pulls out her chair for her, brushing his lips across her forehead.

Dinner comes, and they eat, silverware clinking against plates and the cream-colored tablecloth catching a small breeze.

It is when he starts to talk of the future that her face starts to fall.

He pauses, watching her smile slowly slide off her face, and asks her if everything is okay. She says that she is fine, but she wants to talk about now.

Charlotte, he knows, has a hard time with the future.

She is always scared that she will not make it another year, another month, another week, another day. She lives for now, the moment.

Stein is methodical, has always been, likes steps and plans and plots. He likes planning for the future, knowing what is coming and what will be happening.

In that way, they are different.

But they need to talk about the future. Her pale skin flushes and Charlotte is fidgeting in her seat, not meeting his eyes.

They need to talk about what they will do.

She becomes so uncomfortable that tears fill her eyes and she pleads him to chance the subject, tells him that she really does not want to talk about it.

So Stein stops, a short nod.

It is her night, after all, and the last thing he wants is to make her cry.

The yacht is pulling back into the harbor and Charlotte is avoiding his gaze when they get back.

When they arrive she stands, abruptly, grabs her bag and tells him thank you, it was lovely.

And Charlotte leaves.

He is sitting, leaning back in his chair, watching her walk up the pier and watching her shoulders shake with tears.

The next day, in class, she does not talk to him or look at him or raise her hand.

Charlotte simply gets up to leave when the bell rings, and he calls her down to his desk.

She stares at him, eyes rimmed with red, and fury evident in her posture. Her knuckles are white around the strap of her bag, and her lips are pressed thinly together.

He apologizes.

Stein tells her that he understands but he will always be there to protect her and make sure she lives another day, another week, another month, another year.

He tells her that he will think about now with her.

She says that all she wants is to be with him before she goes, whenever she goes.

Moss green eyes meet electric blue ones, and he says that he would love nothing else.

He has brought her something to try and make up for it, take her mind off it, a broken silver bracelet that she had given to him long ago, hoping he could fix it. He has, and he gives it back with his own special addition, a tiny stitched up mouse like the ones he builds.

Charlotte does not say anything, just throws her arms around him and buries her head in his chest.

And Stein walks her home.


	45. Breezeblocks(sf)

**A/N: Breezeblocks by Alt-J.**

**Thank you all so much for giving me 100 reviews X3 Lialane Graest was my 100th :D**

**If you are a bit confused by this chapter, I suggest going to watch te first few parts of the Breezeblocks video on YouTube :)**

**-o-o-o**

_She may contain the urge to run away_

_But hold her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks_

There was a reason Stein nearly broke his back after they were healed.

He took a hammer to the cinder blocks in the backyard.

Never again would he bring one into the house.

Never again would he draw a bath.

_Muscle to muscle and toe to toe_

_The fear has gripped me but here I go_

_My heart sinks as I jump up_

_Your hand grips hand as my eyes shut_

Charlotte was so pale she could have passed for dead.

When she was sleeping, he had to grip her wrist tightly and reassure himself that there was still a purse.

After a while, she grew accustomed to the feeling of his fingers wrapping around hers.

_She bruises, she coughs, she splutters_

_Pistol shots hold her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks_

_She's morphine, queen of my vaccine, my love_

Bruises were always so evident on her pale skin and he had to be careful, careful, not to make one where anyone else could see.

But Charlotte was like his drug, and too much of her could send him off the edge.

_Please don't go, I'll eat you whole_

_I love you so, I love you so, I love you so_

_Please don't go, I'll eat you whole_

_I love you so, I love you so, I love you so_

He asked her to go and he asked her to stay.

But either way, wherever she went, he would never scare her like that again.


	46. Forest Whitaker(sf)

**A/N: Forest Whitaker by Bad Books, features current CharlottexRim and past/current SteinxCharlotte.**

**-o-o-o**

_We started a fire_

_That was never supposed to burn out_

_You started a band_

_That was cool for a while but it turned pretty bland_

They both knew that it would end badly. It was just fate, predetermined.

But he did not expect how much it would hurt to have to let Charlotte go.

_I started to fight_

_With the neighbor next door and his pesky wife_

_You started a job_

_That you hate when you're sober and hate even more when you're not_

He found himself smarting, always on edge, tense.

Stein would snap at people and some of them, like Spirit, just looked at him because they knew exactly why.

The world was changing and not in his favor.

_I know_

_You hate me, too_

_Always say you do_

Charlotte was already broken and he made the cracks deeper and more violent; she'd a reason to hate him. She _did _hate him.

Part of her didn't, though, and she said with conviction that she didn't mean it.

But he knew that deep down she did.

_And you moved to Japan_

_Thought a clean bill of health and a camera could show you the plan_

_I bought a bird that repeats what I say_

_But "I'm lonely" is all that was heard_

Charlotte had always liked to travel, and travel she did. Most of the times it was him who took her places, but after it got harder for him to leave the lab, they had to stop leaving Death City so much.

After Rim took her away, the lab seemed so empty.

_You found a guy_

_That is clearly the opposite me with the black motorbike_

_I digged around_

_But it's like a movie that its picture is off with the sound_

Rim was more able, could take Charlotte to do things off on his motorcycle and could be there more, wasn't dangerous.

He was hot and Stein was cold.

They were opposites and it had always been blurry for Charlotte which one her heart sought after more.

Even after she left, she still loved him.

_And you started to write_

_It was subtle at first but the danger was clearly in sight_

_I don't reply_

_Due to a lack of an ego and laziness that cuts like a knife_

He would get her letters and read them a thousand times over, never trashing her words.

Stein kept them all but he never wrote one word back.

He never even let her know he saw them.

It hurt too much.

He missed her too much, and didn't think he could put his heartache for her to _come home _in words.

_I know_

_You hate me, too_

_Always say you do_

She was so lovely and Rim so lucky to have her with him, so far away.

Stein missed her desperately but never said a word about it, turned them the cold shoulder when they came back for a visit.

In some ways, he hated her.

He hated her for making his chest ache from his memories.


	47. Everlasting Light(sf)

**A/N: Everlasting Light by The Black Keys.**

**I do switch favorite songs a lot, but there are a few that will just always remain, and this one is one of them :3**

**-o-o-o-**

_Let me be your everlasting light_

_The sun, when there is none_

_I'm a shepherd for you_

_And I'll guide you through_

_Let me be your everlasting light_

Always, he would guide her through the mist and fog that shrouded her reality. When it was hard to discern what was important, she could always take his hand.

_Let me be your everlasting light_

_I'll hold and never scold_

_In me you can confide_

_When no one's by your side_

_Let me be your everlasting light_

Charlotte could tell him everything.

Before, then, when everything was okay, he would listen to her talk.

But it became a weapon for his madness to use against her.

Even though it was dangerous, even though she knew very well what could happen, Charlotte still confided in him.

She still trusted him.

_Oh, baby, can't you see_

_It's shining just for you_

_Loneliness is over_

_Dark days are through, they're through_

When they were finally free, Charlotte could still not believe it for a long time. It took a while to sink in.

It took a while for her to realize that her throat wouldn't be raw with screaming anymore.

_Let me be your everlasting light_

_A train going 'way from pain_

_Love is the coal that makes this train roll_

_Let me be your everlasting light_


	48. Such Great Heights(sf)

**A/N: Such Great Heights by The Postal Service.**

**This is one of those songs that was with me when I first got an iPod and adopted my mum's music-it's stayed with me for about 4 years or so, and I still love it so much. Wonderful song.**

**-o-o-o**

_I am thinking it's a sign that the freckles in our eyes_

_Are mirror images and when we kiss_

_They're perfectly aligned_

_And I do have to speculate that God himself_

_Did make us into corresponding shapes_

_Like puzzle pieces from the clay_

They molded together so perfectly, made to fit, and their eyes were like unique shades of the color wheel, electric blue and moss green that went together like lock and key.

It was good to have a match.

_And true, it may seem like a stretch_

_But it's thoughts like this that catch my troubled head when you're away_

_I am missing you to death_

_When you are out there on the road, for several weeks_

_And when you scan the radio I hope this song will guide you home_

Stein would always wait for her and no matter where the hell he was, she would always have a place with him. Always a home and a place to sleep, no matter if she ended up getting married one day and moving far away.

He would always be there, even though it hurt terribly to think of Charlotte gone.

_They will see us waving from such great heights_

_'Come down, now' they'll say_

_But everything looks perfect from far away_

_'Come down, now' but we'll stay_

From far away, they were like normal people.

But close up you could see the bruises standing out on pale skin, split lips and long scars and scratches, bandages and bloody fingers and everything wrong with the mind.

The top of his lab, the roof, was where Charlotte liked to sit most. It was cold up there and there was always a breeze, it was chilled concrete at night and a flat little sanctuary during the day.

Stein hated the damn roof.

It brought back to many heart-wrenching memories of Charlotte teetering on the edge, rain coming down cheerfully like his world might not be ending. He would call for her to come back from the brink, and it was the one time where he was squinting through the rain that he heard her screech.

In an instant, he was there, fingers tight around her wrist and heaving her back up onto solid ground.

They were both drenched but he held her close anyway, safe inside his arms with her fingers digging into his skin from pure fear.

_I tried my best_

_To leave this all on your machine_

_But the persistent beat sounded thin upon listening_

_And frankly that will not fly_

_You will hear the shrillest highs and lowest lows_

_With the windows down when this is guiding you home_

Stein wanted her to be happy.

If it meant she left Death City for good, that was that, but she could always come back.

Stein wondered if after so many years they would still meld together as perfectly as he remembered.

He hoped.


	49. The Wave(sf)

**A/N: The Wave by Miike Snow.**

**For some reason, my Mad Meisters poll actually decided to show up, so yeah. XD It would be awesome if you guys would take it :D**

**-o-o-o**

_The first strike of the hammer_

_Made my heart beat faster_

_The right time to remind me_

_That there was something behind me_

Stein would pride himself on the fact that he did not startle easily. It was quite difficult to scare him or sneak up on him(especially with the man's refined and toned Soul Perception) but when he was mad, it became a whole different matter.

He saw them everywhere.

It became almost a paranoia. Stein would see her everywhere, she would fucking haunt him. Charlotte would not leave him alone, lurking in the corners of his vision, and he was riddled with guilt because he had brought this on himself.

_You can hear them, you can hear them banging on the tin_

_But my love won't be saved_

_We'll all be staring at the wave, staring at the wave_

_Staring at the wave_

It was his fault.

Stein had never been afraid of pain before, it had never held him back-so he didn't know why it did this time. He was hesitating to experiment again, try to heave himself further out of his madness-but he'd been putting it off.

He could hear them screaming.

The small group of them screaming for him to help them, fists banging on the metal that he could easily reach over and unlock. But he was mad, hunched over and cackling for all of the world to hear, moss green eyes fixed on Charlotte's white face in the tiny window.

Some of them were turned, staring at the wave.

_They told me I wasn't everything_

_Before the bombs started falling_

_I was a thief of the master_

_I was a walking disaster_

He could have saved them, could have shut himself down before his walking time-bomb self became like this.

Stein was a walking disaster.

He could see them behind the door, sound muted, as the water swelled up and broke them and there was blood in the water, he watched them drown.

He watched Charlotte die, the light in her eyes going out like an explosion.

_You hear me coming, I know you hear the sound_

_I know you feel it coming, don't let it get you down_

_You can hear them, you can hear them banging on the tin_

_But my love won't be saved_

_We'll all be staring at the wave, staring at the wave_

_Staring at the wave_

_I know you hear me coming_

He watched Rim smash his lips to Charlotte's, sending the last of his air into her mouth. Stein watched her last kiss be stolen, one he was supposed to have.

When she would ghost her fingers along the door frame, glide over with no sound at all, still so beautiful and elegant , he knew he could have saved her, and it nearly killed him.


	50. Ponderous

**A/N: I know the ending is a bit confusing on this one, but if you don't get it, I'll be happy to tell cha :D**

**Thank you all for voting on my poll!**

**-o-o-o**

When Charlotte changed something about herself, she wouldn't say a word.

It could be something simple, like a different skirt or a new pair of boots. She wouldn't mention it at all.

It was just how she was.

So the day she walked into his lab with blond hair, he supposed it wasn't unusual of her to not say anything.

Stein stared.

He could tell that it obviously wasn't her natural color-it was probably that she would never get it back. But it was close to what he remembered it being like.

"Charlotte."

She had just passed into the kitchen and backpedaled, the blond locks brushing past her cheek.

"Yes, Professor?"

"Come here."

She obeyed, her electric blue eyes showing no emotion.

"Hair?"

"What about it?"

He simply looked at her.

"It's blonde."

"Yes, I know."

"Why'd you dye it?"

Now it was her turn to stare.

"Professor, it's not dyed."

"Charlotte, your hair has been black for over two years."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

She was turned towards him, brows creased in confusion.

"Your hair turned black when your body got overtaken. It's stayed black, and the only way it could have gone blonde is if you'd dyed it."

"Overtaken?"

He searched her face for any sign of madness, for the usual tells that told him she was under attack.

But there was nothing.

Charlotte's face was completely blank.

"You don't remember?"

"There's nothing to remember-"

"Why are you here, then?" Stein demanded. "Where's Rim?"

"You put him next to me."

"What?"

"Down there."

"Down _where_?"

"I can't remember what it's called, you haven't said the word."

"Charlotte, do you know who I am?"

"Of course!"

"Tell me."

"Professor Franken Stein, three-star meister-"

"No, Charlotte. That's not what I meant. Do you know who I am to you?"

"You're my teacher!" she said brightly.

"For Death's sake, Charlotte. Answer me, what did we do on your birthday this year?"

"I went to the movies with Kate-"

"That was over two years ago. _This year_."

"I went to the movies." she said slowly.

"I took you to San Francisco, Charlotte. How old are you?"

"Fifteen!"

Stein swore under his breath.

She had all of her scars, she was wearing her usual clothes, but something was very wrong.

"You're eighteen."

"No, I'm not!"

Stein stood, sharply, and gripped her wrist.

"Go to bed. Sleep this off."

He watched her after he let go.

Charlotte headed towards the basement stares.

"Where the hell are you going?"

"To bed."

"Death, you don't sleep in the basement."

"Yes, I do."

Stein took her hand, silently, and led her up to where he slept. Her jacket was slung across the headboard and a few of her things were on his nightstand, her side of the bed was rumpled.

"I didn't know you had a girlfriend, Professor."

She was examining the perfume with no sign of recognition on her face.

"Will she be company, too?"

"_You_ sleep here."

Charlotte looked up at him, surprised, a blush spreading across her cheeks.

"I've always been with Rim-"

"Show me."

She led him down to the basement and pushed open the door, the hinges creaking. Her footsteps were slow, meticulous, ponderous, her fingers fumbling around in the dark for the light.

Charlotte flipped the switch.

He followed her to a metal table graced by a pillow, the one next to it covered up.

"Rim's asleep again, Professor."

"How long?"

"Quite a bit." Charlotte said, and then laughed. "I can't get him to wake up!"

A sickening feeling was starting to coil in his stomach.

"Go over there, for a second."

"By the company?"

"Yeah." he said absently, and then whirled.

His eyes focused on rows and rows of covered gurneys, the forms of bodies underneath. The whole room was still and silent as the grave, smelling of blood and death.

Charlotte stood, hands behind her back, quietly observing them.

Stein yanked back the sheet and stared into the pale face of the very dead Rim Shakre.

He covered it back up before Charlotte could see the gaping wounds on his body.

"Is he still sleeping, Professor?"

"Come here, Charlotte. Tell me the last thing you remember before me asking you about your hair."

"That's easy."

There was something so _wrong_ in her smile. It was so broken, so shattered, the puppet strings holding her up straining.

Almost as if he was blind before, there was suddenly a blossoming purple bruise on her cheek. There was a sickening dripping noise but Stein forced himself to keep his eyes on Charlotte's trembling lip.

"I failed my test, and you told me to come here."

She swallowed.

"Rim came with me and you two were talking for hours while I was in lab."

But they were not talking.

"I was alone for a really long time, Professor."

"Go on."

"That's it."

He blinked and there were droplets of blood on his glasses, a rope burn on Charlotte's neck and blood slowly flowing from her wrists.

"Do you know how many times I've failed that test?"

She cracked a smile.

"Six thousand, seven hundred thirty times."

It was beginning to dawn on him.

"Do you know how many times Rim has followed me here? Six thousand, seven hundred thirty times. Do you know how many times Death Scythe came to visit? Six thousand, seven hundred thirty times!"

Charlotte's voice was shrill.

"Do you know how many times you left me alone? How many times I killed myself? _Six thousand, seven hundred thirty times!"_

Her voice rang through the room.

Stein stepped forward, not caring about the blood, and pulled her close to him.

Something must have happened the day after Charlotte's birthday, something to keep the time loop repeating. Something terribly wrong that ended in all these people, Rim, and Charlotte dead.

Something that only made him notice today.

"You count?"

"There's nothing else to do around here."

Her voice was muffled in his chest and Stein brushed his lips across the top of her head, staring at the bodies.

"I'm sorry, Charlotte."

"Today will be six thousand, seven hundred thirty-one."

The doorbell rang.

"Charlotte, neither of us is going to answer the door. Am I clear?"

"It's not you that lets him in." she said, a note of fear creeping into her voice. Charlotte's fingers tightened in his shirt.

"Then-"

Stein heard the door open and footsteps above them, walking around the living room.

"You're supposed to be up there."

It was then that Stein noticed Rim's body was not on the table anymore.

Charlotte screamed and Stein whirled to stare at the dead boy in the doorway, jaw slack and blood bubbling from his lips. The gashes in his stomach showed intestines and Charlotte yanked on Stein's coat.

"_YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE UP THERE!"_

"What does he do?" Stein demanded sharply.

"You kill him! I don't know! I wasn't in the room!"

"Charlotte, what did you do a day after your birthday?"

"_I DON'T KNOW!" _She screamed.

"You started this, damn it! Remember!"

"I can't!"

"Charlotte, I can't stop this without you!"

"Professor, please, I can't-"

Stein started as if a shock had gone through him.

"You didn't show up that day." he murmured. "You didn't go to school. Rim said you had stayed home sick. I came by after school and saw you, Charlotte, I saw you before the rain started. My mind kept going on for two years when all this time we've been stuck here."

"What?"

"I saw you die, Charlotte." Stein said finally. "Two years ago, I saw you die."

"Professor-"

"Why am I here, then?"

"They only come here if they're dead."

It would make sense why Marie was absent.

"Have you ever tried to get out of here, Charlotte?"

"No, Professor. I'm already dead, aren't I?"

"Have I ever tried to kill you?"

"No, Professor, you've been out of it for six thousand, seven hundred-"

"I get it."

Stein didn't stop to wonder how he died, he didn't dwell on it. They just needed to stop the loop.

-o-o-o

_"Thirteen thousand, four hundred sixty..."_


	51. Tinted

It had been fifteen years since Charlotte had seen him last.

To the outside eye, that was nearly unbelievable. Their relationship had seemed flawless, no cracks or anything, an excellent graduate and her teacher becoming good friends. Of course, there was the rumor that he tried to murder her, but no one ever heard anything after that. She survived and moved away with her weapon partner, and he stayed in Death City. That was the way it was.

It was never brought up again.

Charlotte was healed by Rim and he was obligated by duty to go to England, but he had to put  
it off for a few years when she disappeared. It turned out she had been in England all along, and so he went there and they got a nice flat(courtesy of Lord Death's special Deathscythe treatment) and that was that.

She was a legendary meister in the school and Stein still taught there but whenever someone asked him about Charlotte Williams he was short and terse, never elaborating.

Charlotte was in England, and she got married to Rim.

They had two kids, named Franken and Spirit, and she had a nice, quiet job as a journalist. It soon came up to fifteen years and she turned thirty-three, all memories of Franken Stein locked in the back of her mind. Rim never mentioned him in the house, and their child never knew who he was named after.

Spirit wrote, occasionally.

He never mentioned Stein either and Charlotte never asked, it was kind of just one of those forgotten things.

Charlotte was happy.

-o-o-o

Stein kept on teaching, although he didn't really know why. He supposed it was maybe because he had nothing else to do, or he didn't really _know_ what else to do. He could have moved away and gotten a job as a surgeon or taught somewhere else, but he was just sort of numb to do anything big like that.

He saw her everywhere, at first.

In the halls, in his lab, her memory had left its imprint, and there was nothing Stein could do to get rid of it. After a while Charlotte faded away, along with the slight resentment at Rim for taking her away, but she was still at the back of his mind.

He knew that she and Spirit wrote back and forth.

His senpai never mentioned her or how she was doing and Stein never asked, although he heard Spirit talking to Nygus one time and the redhead mentioned that she had two kids, named Franken and Spirit.

Stein clenched the handle of his coffee mug so hard it shattered.

He heard Charlotte was better, healed, but he knew as well as she did that what he had done to her would never be forgotten. The mark was made, he had ruined her life, and neither of them could not remember.

Stein kept teaching, just sort of going along in life, at forty-eight years old. It had been fifteen years since Charlotte had left and he still couldn't bring himself to lift her hairbrush from his bathroom counter.

Marie was gone.

The blonde had left, white-lipped angry, before Charlotte did, going back to Oceania, and Stein never mentioned that Charlotte was in England and he was alone in the lab. For all Marie knew they were still together. They wrote from time to time and he couldn't bring himself to write Charlotte's name, the empty lab almost deafening in the silence.

She had meant so much to him and then suddenly was ripped out of his life. Rim had taken her, healed her, made her better and made her happy and made her his wife and gave her so many things that Stein could not. Stein only wanted her to be happy and even though she seemed worlds away, if she was enjoying life, then he would keep silent about how much his heart ached for her.

It felt like a piece of him had died, even though she was still living on.

Spirit spent a lot of time at his lab, not really minding that sometimes Stein wouldn't even acknowledge his presence. He couldn't bring himself to see his best friend so alone and so without life.

He knew it was killing Stein.

Spirit did not say a word to Rim because he knew the guilt would tear Charlotte apart, and he wanted to avoid wrecking her new life. It had taken her over ten years to readjust, to be normal again, and to bring everything all rushing back could be disastrous.

He prayed that Stein would hold on for days and days.

But Spirit didn't even know how long he was praying for Stein to wait for.

-o-o-o-o

Spirit watched Stein with eyes like a hawk.

He knew that the silver-haired meister was starting to slip, and the best thing he could do was get Marie down to the damn lab before it got any worse.

The phone rang for a long time.

"Marie Mjolnir speaking!"

Her voice was cheerful, sunny.

"Hello, Marie. It's Spirit."

There was a long silence.

"Hi, Spirit."

"I-we need your help, Marie. It's Stein...he's starting to slip again."

"Where's Charlotte?" Marie's voice was cool, quiet, holding back anger that was carefully restrained.

"She's been gone for fifteen years."

"_What_?"

"I'm not lying. Not long after you left."

"I didn't realize..."

Spirit sighed into the speaker.

"I-"

"Spirit."

"What?"

"I'm not coming."

"Marie, Stein needs your help- you know how he gets, and he's really going to lose it this time-"

"I'm on a mission, Spirit. He chose Charlotte, go get her to help him."

"She's in England. New life, _kids, _am I really supposed to disrupt that?" Spirit started angrily.

Marie's next words were scathing.

"Charlotte's the one he wanted to turn to!"

"Marie, please."

"Get her." She spat into the phone.

_Click._

-o-o-o

"Senpai." Stein croaked from the other room.

Spirit turned and treaded into Stein's bedroom, where the bathroom door was open and the light was on. Stein was sitting on the bed, eyes glued to the hairbrush.

It was rotating, slowly, an inch from falling off the sink, the open window's breeze ghosting around the handle.

Spirit stepped forward and Stein braced himself for the crash, tensing, but the Deathscythe's fingers closed around the object. He moved it carefully further back on the counter and turned towards Stein.

"Just throw the damn thing out."

Stein's words were harsh, repeated a thousand times over. Spirit knew that he never meant it and if the found out that the brush disappeared from his bathroom, he'd be furious.

Spirit also knew that he was probably the only other person alive allowed to touch it.

"I wouldn't do that, Stein. She'll need it when she comes back."

Stein's eyes were transfixed to the floor.

"She'll come back."

-o-oo

The phone rang.

Charlotte mumbled something into the pillow, shoving her face further into it, and Rim opened his eyes blearily. With a sigh, he reached over his wife to grab it.

"Rim Shakre speaking."

It was his duty as a Deathscythe to accept calls at two in the morning, unfortunately.

"Hey, Rim."

"Spirit?"

The raven-haired weapon sat up with surprise, eyes opening wider, finally awake.

"Yeah. Sorry to bother you at this hour, but...can I talk to Charlotte?"

Rim was quiet.

"May I ask what this is about?"

Spirit let out a long breath.

"I'll leave that up to her. Please, Rim."

"Hold on."

Rim placed the phone down and gently brushed his fingers across Charlotte's cold cheek.

"Charlotte, wake up."

She did, after a bit, and he handed her the phone.

"Hello?" She asked sleepily.

"Sorry to wake you, Charlotte."

Spirit never called, he always wrote.

Charlotte slipped out of bed and made her way through the darkness to the kitchen.

"What is it?"

"Stein."

Charlotte flinched.

"l swear, I wouldn't be calling unless I had no other choice. No one can help him but you, Charlotte. You're our last hope."

"Spirit Albarn, how DARE you."

The black haired woman clenched her available fist.

"It has taken me over ten years to get over Death City. Ten damn years. You want to call me back when I have fucking kids? What is this really about? Are you nostalgic over there? I'm married, for Death's sake! I can't just go running back there and pretend like everything is okay!"

"Charlotte, I would not be calling if every other resource hadn't run out."

"So now I'm a resource?

"You mean so much to him, you know that."

"Spirit." Charlotte said shakily. "Listen to me for a minute. My children don't know how their mother got her scars. They don't know why I'll still space out sometimes or need to keep the lights on. Franken doesn't know where he got his name, and to Death I swear his name is only so because it is one of the only things I have left of my old memories. I have done so much to distance myself from him, to make myself a new life, and you want to pull me back in to that hell?"

"I'm not trying to ruin your life, I'm trying to save Stein's."

"What the hell am I supposed to tell my children?"

"That's not for me to decide. But I'm pleading with you, Charlotte, you are my last hope."

There was a long silence.

"I'll call you in two days."

Click.

Charlotte turned to see Rim standing quietly in the doorway, the moonlight falling on his concerned features.

"Is everything okay?"

Charlotte numbly nodded, and Rim didn't pry any further. He took Charlotte's hand and led her back to bed, trusting that she'd tell him if she wanted to.

"Mommy?"

They both turned to see Franken, the older of their two, rubbing his eyes from the hallway leading down to his and his brother's room.

"Go back to bed, Franken, everything's fine."

The blue-eyed boy nodded and turned around to go back into the darkness, and Charlotte could not move, staring at the spot he had been standing in.

She had kids.

Charlotte couldn't leave them and Rim here, she didn't know how long she would be away. She didn't know what would happen between her and Stein if she went back.

But she wouldn't be able to sit with the guilt if she didn't go.

-o-o

When Spirit called again, Charlotte had been sitting by the phone.

She told him she would go.

Her children begged and pleaded for their mother to stay; it was the first time she would be leaving them for a long and unknown amount of time. It nearly broke Charlotte's heart.

Rim wasn't happy.

He understood why she needed to go but he was still tight-lipped when she packed for the States.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?"

"I'll call you when I land." Charlotte responded, and kissed him on the cheek.

"Bye!" She called.

Franken and Spirit were at school, having said their farewells at breakfast.

"Be safe."

The door shut, leaving Rim silent in the flat.

-o-o

Charlotte went straight to the lab, as Spirit had asked.

He was waiting outside for her, sitting on Stein's doorstep, fingers interlinked and shoulders hunched. He really didn't look much different after fifteen years, but neither did she.

"Hey."

Charlotte couldn't help a smile playing across her lips as his eyes lit up. Spirit stood and gave her a tight hug.

"I missed you, Charlotte."

"Missed you too."

Her voice was muffled in his suit and Charlotte felt a few tears coming to her eyes as she inhaled Spirit's familiar scent, one that she hadn't been around for more than a decade.

"Are you ready?" Spirit asked finally.

"I hope so."

They began to walk towards the looming laboratory.

"What do you even want me to do?" Charlotte asked, fear showing in her voice. "I'm not the one with the Healing Wavelength."

"He's missed you, Charlotte." Spirit said gently. "That should be enough."

"How long has he been like this? How is he?"

"A while, it's been getting worse and worse until he finally snapped. That was a few days ago."

Spirit took Charlotte's bags.

"It's not violent madness, just the hallucinations and things."

She touched the scar on her neck briefly.

Spirit glanced over at her.

"Thank you for coming."

She simply nodded and waited as he pushed open the door to the lab. A rush of cold air blew out to meet them.

"Come on in."

Charlotte obliged, setting down her things in the entryway and then following Spirit upstairs. There was an odd smell in the air, like shoe polish. It got stronger the more steps they took and Spirit was frowning.

He reached out to open the bedroom door.

It creaked as it swung back and Charlotte screamed.

Stein sat on the floor, holding a dead honey-colored cat and dying it black. His arms were covered with the stuff, fingers threading tenderly through the cat's sticky fur.

Charlotte slumped against the wall out of Stein's field of vision, breathing hard and pressing shaking fingers to her forehead. She had forgotten what it was like.

She wasn't sure she could do it.

"Spirit, I can't." Her voice cracked.

"Stay there."

He ventured inside and she heard the sound of a faucet running and Spirit's low voice trying to get through the haze of Stein's thoughts.

Charlotte didn't know how long she sat there, arms wrapped around herself, trying to get her heart to stop racing.

"Charlotte?"

She looked up to see Spirit kneeling next to her, worry creasing his brow.

"Is it gone?"

"Yeah."

With a sigh, Charlotte steeled her nerves and took his hand, pulling herself up and walking quietly into the room. The shoe polish was gone from the floor and so was the cat

Right as Charlotte stepped into the room, Stein's head snapped towards her.

"They really got it close this time." He said with a crooked smile.

After so many years emotion was choking up in her chest and she could hardly breathe.

"Why the hell won't you leave me alone?"

The smile was sliding off his face and his features contorted into an angry snarl.

"STOP TARNISHING MY MEMORY OF HER!"

And then his hand was around her throat.

Charlotte was slammed back against the wall, air cut from her lungs and she pulled at his hand, desperately, wordlessly pleading at Spirit for help.

"STEIN, LET GO!"

"STOP SENDING ME FAKES!" The older meister was furious, bone-crushing killing murderous furious.

And Charlotte was directly in the path of his rage.

-o-o

She was sitting with her bruised neck.

"I thought you said it wasn't violent madness." Charlotte said wryly.

"I'd no idea he would-"

"No, Spirit, you did. But you want your meister back."

-o-o

The one place the fakes hadn't intruded was the place that had been utterly sacred to their memory. No matter how strong or how many remembrances he had of Charlotte sitting beside him in his lab, they never came in.

Except for this one.

Stein glanced to side and she was sitting there with her head bowed like a broken bird, quiet, eyes on a stain on the concrete.

His mind couldn't believe she would ever come back.

The replicas were always so hot. They burned his skin when they touched him, as hot as the sun, a scalding reminder of what had been.

Charlotte's fingers crept over to his, slowly, and she touched his hand.

The icy contact almost made him jump.

Stein smiled, distantly.

"You have to prove it, you know."

"What do you want me to do?"

Everything was empty.

His mind and body were drained of all thoughts and memories, his vision hazy like fog. Things were spiraling downward, out of control, and Stein's rational sense knew he needed to be grounded.

Before he knew what he was doing, Stein's lips were on Charlotte's.

He immediately knew it was her once his mouth made contact with hers, the familiar taste calming his frenzied nerves.

The next second, a slap was stinging on his cheek.

Stein deserved it.

"Satisfied?"

"I-"

"I'm married now, Professor, it's not like it used to be-"

Tears sprang to the raven-haired meister's eyes at her own words, both at the old title and the memories of her life here at the lab.

"I'm so sorry you couldn't come to the wedding, to meet my kids-"

He winked.

She stared.

"You looked beautiful, my dear."

Charlotte's eyes got wide. "You were there?"

"In the back. Excuse me for not coming up and saying hello, but senpai was chasing after your friend Kate."

She laughed, tears rolling down her cheeks. The woman wiped her eyes and searched his weary features.

"Are you going to be okay?"

"No." He said briskly. "In about five minutes, I'll be off."

"What should I do?"

With a great effort Stein forced out his last word before he seized up in a painful spasm.

"Stay."

-o-o-o

Charlotte's shriek brought Spirit out from some place in the lab, rushing towards them as fast as he could go. Spirit skidded into the room to see Charlotte's hands over her mouth and Stein tensed up, jaw clenched, fingers around a scalpel that was being dragged across the table.

"He went mad again...I'm so sorry, Spirit, I have no idea what to do-"

Spirit was busy removing the scalpel from his old partner's hand, placing the instrument on the counter next to them, away from Stein's reach.

"It's not your fault, Charlotte, he-"

"He told me to stay. But I don't understand...I don't have a special wavelength except for one that can make people go insane!"

Spirit stared at her.

"Have you ever tried using yours to counter his?"

"I was never taught how, for obvious reasons. I could make all of Death City mad."

"Did Rim know?"

"Yes, he was taught. But I could just make it worse if I even tried something like that! It could kill him!"

"His will is very strong, Charlotte, that's the reason he isn't dead. He's had years of madness, moderate and bad."

After a minute of hesitation, Charlotte nodded.

She got out her phone to call Rim, hands shaking, and Spirit mentally crossed his fingers as the woman moved out of the room.

-o-o

"Is everything okay?"

Charlotte smiled shakily.

"Yeah, it's fine. I need your help, though."

"What do you need?"

"Teach me how to send out my wavelength."

"Charlotte, why the hell would you-"

"Please, Rim. I don't have time to explain. Trust me."

After a moment of hesitation he started, slowly, and Charlotte prayed to Death that it would work.

o-o-o-

The one thing they hadn't counted on was how projecting her wavelength would affect Charlotte.

Rim called later in the day, again, and Spirit had to answer the phone and lie that Charlotte was sleeping. He seemed suspicious, but Spirit was convincing enough to make the weapon drop it.

They couldn't tell how Stein was.

Both Charlotte and Stein had fallen in sort of a coma, Stein's vitals improving and Charlotte's declining.

Charlotte had to return back home to her kids but it was doubtful whether she'd be well enough to make the trip, and if Rim came back to America all hell would break loose from his fury.

So Spirit held the fort until Stein woke up and Rim was convinced.

What the red-haired scythe hadn't counted on was the hollow feeling in his chest when he called Rim at three in the morning, letting the line crackle with static for all eternity before he spoke.

What he hadn't counted on was having to let Stein see for himself because he couldn't bear to explain it.

What he hadn't counted on was Charlotte not waking up.


	52. Default(sf)

**A/N: Default by Django Django.**

**-o-o-**

_You thought you'd set the bar_

_I'd never tried to work it out_

_We just lit the fire, and now you want to put it out_

_You gave it all you got_

_And all you got is not enough_

_Why don't you hand it over_

_Time is up, you've had your shot_

They had started sort of this twisted system.

As long as she kept coming and allowing his scalpel to descend on her pale flesh, he gave her the grades that she'd always wanted, something she deserved but had done none of the assingments.

They started and once he caught her actually doing the homework, late for her visit to the lab.

It was unacceptable.

They had started it, they needed to finish it-and if her body was not strong enough to take the damage, Charlotte Williams would be a casualty.

In the back of his mind he hated to think that.

_Gather once again, disasters in the end_

_It's like a default_

_You thought you'd make the grade_

_Oh, you make me start to fade_

_We threw it in the fire, it's better that it not remain_

_You just brought together_

_Didn't seem to have the heart_

_We use like coming off now_

_you that it would fall apart_

All evidence went in the fire.

Her work, her poems, her everything, Charlotte's waste of time. Her pictures and her life went aflame in a big, big blaze.

It was for her own protection, Stein mused.

It could all be used to hurt her and behind his castle walls no harm would come to her, he would not let it. No one would ever scar her.

He didn't remind himself of the fact that it was his own hand that was causing most of the damage in her life.

She wouldn't cut herself off, so he did it for her.

_Take one for the team, you're a cog in the machine_

_It's like a default_

_You've missed the starting gun_

_For everything you've ever done_

_But disappeared without a trace_

_Forget about the cause_

_Press rewind then stop and pause_

_It's like a default_

Charlotte Williams was programmed, in a way, by him. He taught her how to live again, taught her that everyone out there in the big scary world was out to get her.

The lab was safe, he told her.

They needed to get rid of everything people could use to find her, and she could stay with him forever behind big cold walls. They only needed each other.

He would tell her how to live how he wanted to.

He would set her back to default.

-o-o

**AU-ish, taking place after her madness recedes for the most part. Instead of the canon ending, which doesn't involve Stein much, this fic is about him taking Charlotte in and cutting her off from everyone else they know, him reprogramming how she thought and lived. She would be his puppet, no memory of anything except what he was telling her.**


	53. Reverse

**A/N: I actually am writing a Valentine's fic, but it has strong themes in it and portrays Stein in a way I don't like to share with the general public(it's just a bit strong) but I'm putting this up instead. It has nothing to do with Valentine's, but it's sort of my filler xD**

**This is a bit of reverse-Charlotte starting out with depression, instead of ending with it.**

**-o-o-o**

She stopped getting out of bed.

First Charlotte just stopped showing up at his class and then he heard that she wasn't coming to school it all. She was gone for a straight week with Rim taking home her homework and Stein inquired exactly what the hell was wrong.

Rim said, simply, that he couldn't get her up.

The weapon was never one to yell and he never would be, but yelling at Charlotte wouldn't have worked. Neither did pleading or bribing or anything else that Rim could think of.

She had just remained under her quilt and not come out.

Rim had brought her food but as the days went on she stopped eating it, stopped making the quilt rustle when she moved. It was silent as the grave in there, save for the window Rim would open and the noise of the curtains as a breeze caught them.

Life stopped.

It wasn't that unexpected-she had been down for a while, stopped smiling and laughing so much, just like it had always been in a way. Charlotte was depressed, almost from birth.

Stein knew.

He knew about it and he was the one that had prescribed her medication-until she stopped. Charlotte just refused to keep taking it, and although Rim slipped it into her food, Charlotte practically dissected any meal that came within her vicinity.

The room became dark, gray, like a shadow had been cast over it, like the room of someone who had died long ago and no one dared touch it.

Rim tried to brush it off.

He even brought more lamps in there, but every new addition he would make in an effort to cheer Charlotte up he found smashed and destroyed.

Rim didn't know what she was doing under the quilt-reading or sleeping or something worse, like pilfering a knife from the kitchen and taking it down there with her.

He had tried to pull back the quilt, once, and he received some sort of inhuman snarl and a vicelike grip that yanked it back down, the weapon only earning a flash of her raven-colored hair.

She would not come out.

Rim knew that she did, at least sometimes, when he wasn't around. He'd come home and find traces of water in the shower, a kettle still warm on the stove, a dirty shirt on the floor where it hadn't been before. It was his only reassurance that she was still alive.

She would accept no visits but Stein had never really been one to care about a lack of an invitation.

He came in on a Sunday morning, when the rain was plunking on the roof, fading into comfortable background noise.

Stein didn't know if she heard him come in.

There was the bed, against the far painted-bluish gray wall, windows with curtains and piles of books and mugs and other things scattered everywhere. There was a clear path to the bed, forged by Rim, and the giant white quilt piled on top of the bed. If he couldn't sense her soul, he wouldn't have known that someone else was in the room.

It was absolutely motionless.

As the silence settled back in, Stein took a slow step forward, then another. He made his way to the bedside and stood there for a few minutes, eyes roving over the mass of blankets and pillows.

"Charlotte?"

He hadn't expected her to answer, to _hear_ him even.

As far as he knew, she didn't.

Stein knew the reaction he would get if he pulled back Charlotte's quilt, and for a moment he wondered how much time Rim had spent in here. As far as he knew the boy went in and out.

The silver-haired meister cleared a pile of books and a mug off of Charlotte's desk chair, then dragged it over to her bed and sat himself on it.

He crossed his legs and idly pulled out a newspaper, silent.

After what seemed like eternity, something moving caught his eye, and Stein's glance rewarded him with the sight of Charlotte's fingers worming through a small gap in the blankets, being enveloped in fresh air and pale as snow. They wriggled around, almost as if testing the air for human scent, like a snake would with its tongue.

They stopped moving, suddenly, and withdrew.

Stein turned a page in his newspaper.

"What do you want?"

He barely caught it, the muffled words uttered with some scathing resentment.

"I thought my visit was hardly unorthodox, you've become quite a recluse."

There was no answer.

"I suppose I came to try and get you to come out."

There was a strange noise from under the blankets until Stein realized it was Charlotte's laughter.

"You can't stay under there forever."

"Watch me."

"I'll drag you out if I have to."

"I'd like to see you try."

"You're speaking to me, I notice."

"No shit."

"Why is that?"

She didn't reply.

"Charlotte, I'm not here to interrogate you. I just want you to come out, at least for a minute."

"What will a minute do?"

"Maybe you'll decide you like fresh air."

"Unlikely."

"Please?"

"No."

"Worth a shot." Stein said ruefully.

"How long are you staying?"

Stein paused.

"How long would you like me to?"

"How long can you?"

"That's up to Rim, I suppose. It might be a little odd if I-"

An object was thrust out from under the quilt.

Stein wrapped Charlotte's pale, slender hand in his, intertwining their fingers.

He noticed her wrist.

"Give me the knife, Charlotte."

Her leg rose from the blankets, the hilt of the knife grasped in her toes. It dangled, the metal glinting in the light, and Stein leaned forward to take it firmly.

"How do you know that's it?"

"I don't."

He sat with her while she cried.

-o-o-o

Rim came into the room, footsteps soft and quiet as usual, and stopped dead in the doorway.

It was almost as if the quilt itself was alive, morphing out of the bed and up Stein's legs and resting on his slouched form in the chair.

"You actually got her to-"

Stein put a finger to his lips.

Rim retreated and closed the door on his way out, picking up the knife that had been resting on Charlotte's desk, clearly placed there on the empty plate for him to take out.

-o-o

He came up with something that could help her.

It was untested, he had to admit, because who the hell could he test it on?

There was no one with a wavelength like Charlotte's, not even his.

But he had checked and rechecked and there was always the antidote if it didn't work.

There was always the antidote.

Stein gave Charlotte the medicine a week after she saw her, and it took effect after almost a day.

-o-o-o

He had never seen her happier.

The smile on her face was like she had just one the lottery and she was out of bed, talking to her friends and in his class and talking to him and Rim. It had worked, she was brilliantly happy, and Charlotte took the drug every Wednesday.

One Friday neither of them came into school, and when Rim came after school to pick up their homework Stein asked him what'd happened.

He said that Charlotte had cut her hand making breakfast, and it was bad. She was fine, though, hand wrapped up.

Stein asked how she cut it.

Rim said on the vase.

For a moment Stein was silent, pondering the oddity of the statement.

"Rim?"

"Yes, Professor?"

"Why was Charlotte using a vase to make breakfast?"

"Oh, the vase was on the table."

"How did she cut it?"

"I think she was putting something on the table and went too fast and hit the vase or something."

"Or something."

"What?"

Stein dismissed him.

He knew that it was a simple accident but it would not stay out of his head that something was off.

-o-o

It had been a month and Charlotte was doing fine, no more accidents or incidents, still happy and smiling.

She showed up at the lab, unexpectedly.

He let her in and was waiting for her to say something relating to her visit but Charlotte just started to laugh.

It was in a terrible way, scary laughter that was like a dam holding back the powerful waters of insanity. It had never occurred to him how _fake_ her smile was, plastered on and held up like he had stitched it up that way. He had never thought of the fact that it was his medicine that was forcing her to be happy, to be trapped and never allowed to cry or scream.

"_I AM SO SICK OF THIS, YOU BASTARD!"_

And Charlotte's smile fell.

-o-o-o

Stein didn't have to give Charlotte the antidote.

She had gotten it herself because she needed it, was sick of his cure. Charlotte wanted her quilt and her quietness back, anything but her stitched-up smile, so she took her antidote.

By herself.

Rim was the one that came at him first, blades carving patterns into Stein's flesh.

But the meister couldn't feel it.

Charlotte had taken the antidote, the way out, fast and quick and relief.

Maybe he should have tested it.

A laugh rose in his throat and burst out into the numbing silence, rising higher and higher and taking his sanity with it.

He should have _tested_ it!

But he could have never tested the antidote.

Maybe he could have taken a precaution, like putting a warning label across Charlotte's forehead.

Maybe then she wouldn't have taken the kitchen knife and gone to sleep on the floor.


	54. Cell

It was probably a good thing he had skipped breakfast.

Stein swallowed, dryly, the noise of the carriage wheels on the cobblestones and the dull chatter of the people outside fading into meaningless background noise.

They had called him for something and it could very well have to do with the thing under the tarp in his basement but Stein was too smart for them to find out.

In the back of his mind, perhaps he knew, but it was too sickening to think about.

He was staring, fixated, on the curtain covering the window and the man across from him was regarding him with sort of an tight sadness.

"What's this all about?"

"I believe it's better for you to just see, sir, with all due respect."

Stein stopped asking.

He had an idea of where they were going-a policeman and a driver knocking on his door, asking him to come with them. All silence, telling him that it was urgent.

The man sitting in front of him Stein recognized, vaguely.

He had been accused of being the Ripper. The man terrorizing the streets, doing unspeakable things to women and once Stein was cleared they actually asked him to come help and be a doctor and do his duty.

Speaking of no breakfast, he hadn't had dinner either.

Charlotte hadn't been back last night so he went to bed alone, Rim dropping by in the evening to drop off a few of Stein's things that had made it home with Charlotte and to inform him that she was fine at his house.

The carriage went along at a steady clip, the horses' hooves clacking along and splashing in puddles.

"Here we are, sir."

With a start, Stein climbed out of the carriage and past the door that was held open for him, straightening his hat and waistcoat. He was a busy man and should be getting back, soon, he had things to tend to but one could not exactly refuse the police.

Especially when they had dirt on you.

Stein followed the men in to the dim police station, manuvering around people and keeping quiet, moss-colored eyes glancing around and his mind whirring, as usual.

"Sir?"

"What?"

"We...we're going to move all of them, just had to start putting them in here so Doc over there could check it out-"

Stein shoved past the nervous, sad-eyed man and wrapped his fingers around the cold bars of the cell everyone was clustering around, pulling the door open with a minor screech.

Everyone sort of shuffled away, and Stein stepped forward.

He was suddenly glad that no breakfast was in his stomach.

Doctor or not there were some things that made him so utterly sick that he had to turn away and press a hand to his mouth in nausea, fingers scrabbling against the chilled stone for desperate support.

Not like this.

It was so wrong to see her on the ground like that, scarred and cut open and naked and dirty and bloody, everything defiling her beauty when she should be standing next to him.

Stein dry heaved for a few minutes, turned away from the scene, and then he heard it.

In one fluid motion the silver-haired doctor had spun and his fist connected with the man's jaw, a loud crack issuing the contact.

"_DON'T YOU DARE CALL HER A WHORE!"_

It was only a thought, the last one had been but it made him so angry that he saw plain red.

The man was rubbing his jaw and giving him this sort of incredulous look, like _what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-you _or _do-you-know-who-I-am_ but it was one of those moments where Stein could have cared less what was going on around him, it was Charlotte's body on the floor and Rim's words of how she was safe at his house the night before ringing in his ears.

He knelt.

There was the scarring, cuts on her eyes and face and neck, from her killer, advancing lower, and then post-mortem ones from the autopsy.

He took her hand.

Stein could only think about how he was going to murder Rim Shakre and if he ended up on the floor right next to Charlotte he wouldn't give a bloody damn.

He rose, a little shakily, and ignored the mumbled words of the people around him. He had somewhere to be, someone to avenge, something to do to keep his mind off of her.

-o-o

Rim knew Charlotte was dead no matter how hard he tried to conceal it. Stein could see, he _knew_ that Rim knew and Rim _knew_ that.

So eventually he just stopped pretending.

He let that sick smile creep across his face and the one thing he did not remember was how fast Stein's hands could close around a throat and crush and squeeze all air out and bruise.

Rim choked, his fingers scraping at Stein's flesh.

All he could think of was blinding rage splitting his skull and how he was going to kill Rim for killing Charlotte and everyone else.

"She-"

Stein released some of the pressure on Rim's throat and the man gulped for air.

"She begged for you!"

Cruelty.

His smile and his eyes were full of cruelty and malice and Stein strangled the life out of Charlotte's best friend and the worst part was that it was probably true, that Charlotte's last thought had been him and he had been doing something at home.

He had not been there when she cried for him.

Rim lay on a crumpled heap on the floor and already someone in the street was screaming and there were people yelling and blood was dripping off his fingertips and Charlotte, Charlotte was dead.

"Think on your sins." Rim mumbled, lips bloody and eyes glazed, his head snapping back as life left his body.

Stein's knees buckled.

-o-o-o-

**A/N: This was an AU 1888 fic :3 Interesting little twist- Rim was Jack the Ripper. I took the cell/police station setting from the tv show Ripper Street, first episode, and Rim's last line from the movie Skyfall :3 Just with all that Stein has done to Charlotte, it could have been seen that her death was a favor to her mind.**


	55. Apple

They had gone to the bridge, the one where Free was fought. It was snowing when they arrived, and the students filed onto the bridge, peering over the railing at the swirling indigo water and the floating ice, buried in coats and scarves.

The rest of the students and Marie were still in the city, shopping and getting hotel rooms. A group of the meisters and weapons wanted to go to the bridge and Stein went with them, nothing with slight distaste that Giriko was tagging along.

The walk over, the chainsaw was crunching on and devouring apples like no tomorrow with a gusto that made the sound of his chewing audible in a rather unpleasant way.

Stein supposed the man was coming with them due to Charlotte.

In the silver-haired meister's opinion Giriko had an unusual interest in Charlotte, and Stein did not like it one bit. Stein chose to go along, watching neutrally from the back of the group, eyes locked onto the back of Charlotte's head and ears trained on Giriko's crunching.

Part of the bridge's railing was still blown out from the fight with Free, and when Stein was momentarily distracted by another student he noticed Charlotte stepping over the caution tape.

She was not out of danger, yet, the madness still swirling around in menacing mental tendrils, and Stein cursed himself for letting her get out of his immediate vicinity. She was all the way on the other end of the bridge.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Giriko stepping towards Charlotte with a hungry look on his face.

Stein cut off his answer mid-sentence and ignored the confused student, turning and starting towards Charlotte, an uncomfortable prickling starting at the back of his neck.

Giriko leaned forward and said something to the younger meister, grinning, and she whirled in surprise and suddenly Charlotte was flailing and falling, falling, just like the snow.

A cold feeling plunged through Stein's chest and he shouted, breaking into a sprint.

Giriko had her, his fingers wrapped tightly around Charlotte's wrist. They seemed frozen in time, his grin and the apple clutched in his free hand, Charlotte's look of fear and Stein could not move fast enough.

Charlotte's life was with Giriko-she would not survive the drop like an immortal werewolf could. Giriko could drop her and Charlotte could be gone, forever, and Stein could murder the man who took her away but it would never bring her back.

Giriko was with them now, the good side, but there was always suspicion in Stein's mind about the amount of malice that still harbored inside the weapon's mind. Killing a meister like Charlotte would strike deep inside the DWMA. It would strike deep inside Stein himself.

Stein was shouting, throat hoarse, yelling to hell and below not to drop her, not to let go, pull her up and hold on.

Charlotte's boot heels were braced against the edge, head thrown back into empty sky, eyes wide and frenzied like a trapped animal.

Stein was watching when Giriko slipped and slammed down face-first hard into the snow, Charlotte disappearing off the edge. The fall took the wind out of the chainsaw and Stein could see him struggling to regain his breath, spitting out curses.

He was watching, frozen, had to see the woman that he loved more than life itself fall when he wasn't by her side.

There was a sharp screech as Giriko's chains burst from his boots, digging into the ground, and he came to a stop halfway off the bridge.

Stein could suddenly move.

He was running, hand outstretched to pull the man up, heave Charlotte up, stop her crying.

"I've got ya, sweet cheeks, hold on to my hand. Don't let go."

Stein grabbed a fistful of Giriko's coat and yanked.

They both came flying upwards, back into the snow, Giriko glancing at Stein as he picked himself up and Stein pulling Charlotte into his chest.

He stayed kneeling, her face pressed into his shoulder and hands buried inside the folds of his jacket.

Giriko was watching them, eyes on Charlotte, and fury took over Stein's rational sense.

He let Charlotte go and charged towards the man, gripping his shirt.

"What did you say to her, you damn idiot?"

"Nothing important." Giriko stated coolly.

Stein's grip tightened menacingly and he seemed to tower over the other man.

"I repeat-"

"Calm down, Christ. All I did was ask her if she wanted an apple. She's fine, ain't she?"

Stein let go.

"You almost cost Charlotte her life."

"Sorry, sir." Giriko muttered sarcastically.

As Stein whirled, ready to pound the shit out of the chainsaw, he saw a strange expression on the man;s face a split second before Giriko lifted his fists in return.

Relief, concern, worry.

"Want to fight?" Giriko spat, taunting, but Stein just looked at him.

"Thank you." he said, simply, and turned away, heading towards Charlotte and leaving Giriko to lower his fists and compose himself.

Giriko nodded, once, and then threw his apple over the bridge, shoving his hands deep inside his pockets.

-o-o-o

**A/N: This takes place in sort of future-verse, where Giriko allies up with Shibusen. I think a few other chapters had this verse in it O.o**

**Fun little fact: in a fic Lialane Graest wrote with Giriko and the rest of the Lab crew in it, his pet name for Charlotte is 'sweet cheeks', and even though this fic, like the others, is completely unrelated to the others, I used it because I adore it x3**


	56. Better

**A/N: This is not a songfic, although it may look like it. It is a very strong fic, and might provoke some things to the more sensitive readers, so please read at your own risk. **

**-o-o-o**

He knew about it long before anyone else did. It was part of protocol, knowing students' families and contacts and test results. He knew that Charlotte Williams was adopted and that her real parents had given her up shortly before their death. He knew why and when and how, he knew everything, and Stein didn't say a thing.

_I don't know_

That was for her parents _now_ to tell her.

_I've been wanting to_

They were far away in France or something, and like most of the other students Charlotte didn't speak of them much. You learned to forget because you were different, and holding on to happy childhood memories never turned out well.

_It has kept me alive_

The occasional letter came and Stein would always wonder when they would tell her, if they would ever. He didn't see her being much upset over it, but that was him.

_I'd make it through_

He found out she knew, and Charlotte was numb for a while. She learned that her parents were dead and she had been adopted.

_To be like this_

She retreated, and he worried. So many other things were wrong, she did not need the added troubles.

_I know they gave up, long ago_

Learning that they were dead was hard on Charlotte, he knew that, and now he was sitting and holding it.

_I knew I would find out eventually_

The last thing she had done, her pen and her paper and he was clutching it so hard it might have ripped.

_The ones I love_

Charlotte was gone, it was too late, he was too late.

_Not mourn too harshly_

Something was swelling inside of Stein's chest, inside his throat, his eyes, a pounding ache and sadness so powerful that it stabbed like a knife.

_I wish I could have been better_

It was wrong that she had fallen. She should not have gone, not left him to find her inside of his room where she did not know where she was and she was upset and confused and insane. He, for once, did not know what to do. He, for once, had never felt so utterly empty.

She, his light, had gone out.

-o-o

_**I don't know** who to address this to. I really have no clue to who will find this-I'm not even sure where I am. It seems familiar, and I hope it is. Or if anyone will find it at all. They'll come looking for me, I know that. When I go missing they'll come out in swarms. I know the three people that will be in the front-maybe a fourth, too, if he wasn't on a mission. I'm not going to apologize, because I'm not sorry. **I've been wanting to** write this and the things implied for a long, long time, perhaps even as far back as when I first experienced madness. In some sick way **it has kept me alive**, the torture going on and on in a cycle. I've been told to be strong, I've been told that **I'd make it through**. People don't understand how I CAN'T. They don't know what it's like **to be like this**, to be mad. Professor Stein knows, but he is much older than me and has had many more years to learn how to tolerate it. I am new, inexperienced, and he understands but he or no one can help me. I am a lost cause. **I know they gave up, long ago**, even though they pretended not to. They pat me on the back and wish I'll be strong but there is nothing I can do, nothing they can do, and I have no future or nowhere to go. He said I could stay with him. They all did. They said everything was going to be okay, holding faith that I would be strong and never snap. They could only hope, and it was not enough. I'm not blaming anyone for not being able to help me, because there's no one out there that can. This was fated to happen,** I knew I would find out eventually**. Only death will bring me peace; I think I have suffered long enough. No one wants me to die, which is exactly why they don't understand my pain. I don't want to die, either, but I can't go on. I have spent my life with **the ones I love**, and I am grateful that I have been allowed to instead of being poked and prodded. I think Death knows your lifespan, and maybe mine is being cut short, not ending when it should. Maybe it does get better, but I can't be around long enough to find out. I do not have any words for the many people that mean dear to me, I can only pray they will **not mourn too harshly** over my death. I can only bid farewell and wish them all prosperous lives. I hope my partner gets a better meister and fulfill his dream of becoming a Deathscythe. **I wish I could have been better.**_

_-Charlotte Williams_

**-o-o-o-o**

**A/N: The parts in italics, above, are the parts that showed through from the letter, and they're bolded in the letter itself. Those certain parts aren't connected, they just sort of fit with what Stein was thinking. **

**SPOILER**

**Suicide isn't how Charlotte canon-ly dies, but it's been a theme. Not sure if I mentioned how she does, but if I haven't, I'll get around to writing it in Scarred eventually :)**


	57. Flame

Light and dark, the both of them, in their own separate ways and somehow alike. They shared things, no matter how much one would not care to admit it. They shared Charlotte, for instance, her smiles and her laughs, her best and her worst. Rim and Stein could be alike, but they were simultaneously so very different. It was the difference that was killing Charlotte-ripping her apart from the inside, the choice of who to choose and why and would have been it be the best choice after it was all over and everyone had moved on and she was the only one still thinking about it.

Part of them wished she would choose between them, end their own mild torment when she was going through so much more. It was selfish, perhaps, but they wanted to make her happy and it was hard when half her time she was with the other.

It was impossible for Charlotte to choose.

They were both so different and both forbidden in their own ways-both she was scared to be near, both suffocated her and both delighted her. Stein was the calculating cold and Rim was the embracing warmth, and the choice had been made for her already.

Stein didn't want her with him.

He loved her, maybe, Charlotte didn't know.

She loved the both of them and knew Rim loved her back but Stein was hard to read.

He would rather she was with Rim but Charlotte craved the cold, needed a sturdier anchor than Rim could provide for her. But she could not just leave Rim, he was her comfort.

It ate at her her every single day, silent death, turning her rotten. They had empty, wordless eyes when they looked at each other and then her, waiting and waiting, never pushing but it was smothering.

Charlotte shoved her hands through her choppy hair that needed a wash(she had been avoiding the shower, there was nowhere safe anymore)and pulled, closing her eyes against the throbbing pain. She felt close to bursting, she hated both of them and wanted to run away from both of them and their touches, cold and warm.

It had to stop, but it never would, it was the eternal torment until Charlotte could choose.

They never considered that maybe she didn't want to choose-or maybe they did, and just didn't care. She would not be allowed to rest and go on, happy, the three of them in fake harmony.

It was always pick, Charlotte, pick so we can stop looking at him and run away, pick so we can stop sharing you like you're the kid of a divorced couple.

-o-o

It was growing, like an infection or a sickness or grass, painstakingly slowly but you know it's still there, you know what's happening even though it's too slow to see it happening. You know what's going to happen in the end but you don't really tune in, stick around to watch.

Charlotte knew and she didn't know if they knew but it was eating her up.

She snapped, once or twice, at both of them, at separate times.

She snapped at Stein and he just sort of looked at her with his cold, deducing gaze and got that she was angry and got up and went to go make coffee, leaving her on the couch to cool down.

Charlotte never stopped being angry.

She snapped at Rim and his expression softened and he got that she was mad and he tried to talk to her, figure it out, and in the end he sort of fell silent because nothing was working.

Charlotte never stopped being angry.

The looks they gave her-Rim, concerned, next to her in class, and Stein pacing around his desk, lecturing to the class and glancing at her over the rim of his glasses. She hated it, how they looked at her like she was some sort of mental patient. They didn't know how to talk to her, how to treat her.

Charlotte stopped telling Stein that she was probably due for some more medication and avoided the both of them as much as possible, their pushing hands and words that she didn't want anywhere near her.

She was snapping and soon would not work anymore, like broken elastic. Stein would have to keep her alive by forceful injection.

It all became foggy, hazy, Charlotte swirling around with her blinding headaches and too incoherent to pay attention or even care what was going on anymore. She had a vague idea but it didn't seem to matter anymore.

"Don't _touch_ me," she snapped, whirling, so angry and tongue like fire.

She had shoved him, hard, unaware of her strength, and Rim's back was pressed up against the counter.

"Charlotte-"

The raven-haired meister hit him, socking him in the jaw, and then she could not stop. There were tomatoes and the cutting board on the counter and her fingers closed around the handle of the knife, bringing it down.

He did not scream.

Charlotte had gone for his vocal chords first like she had seen Stein do, making sure he could only wriggle and arch his back and try to force something out other than gurgling noises. She kept stabbing, the blade going out and in in a sick rhythm.

She didn't take into account when Rim stopped moving, when the blood stopped flowing and sat in its red pool all over the black and white tile.

But eventually something sane came to her mind, and the only thing she could think of was _don't look at it_ and she scrabbled desperately for the telephone.

It seemed to ring for eternity.

Charlotte heard the click and she seemed to have lost all words, listening to his faint greeting and the pause, the question, the demand, and she had to say something or else he would hang up and leave her alone.

"_Help_."

He was over at her house quickly, Charlotte thought, but she was paying no attention to the time and it seemed fast because it was still dark. She heard his sharp intake of breath and his curse and his gaze on her.

"Is it too late?"

She heard him pacing, the noise drumming into her head.

"I'll get rid of it."

Charlotte flinched.

"We have to dispose of him, Charlotte."

"Are you angry?" she asked in a small voice.

There was a body on the floor, the knife still in it, blood everywhere and fear in Charlotte's eyes, part of her mind shut down.

"I'm not angry."

He would do it because he loved her, he would take the blame if he had to. He would do it even if Charlotte didn't love him the way that he loved her.

"Thank you, Professor."

He helped her up, first, and made her sit inside the bathtub.

It had been hours and Charlotte didn't dare come out, wondering if he had simply left her, if he had gotten caught.

Suddenly he was back and pouring a bucket of cold water over her head, hand under her chin, washing the blood down the drain and leaving her to shiver until he found their towels.

He sat with her.

Charlotte had just murdered someone and Rim was not coming back. They should leave and they should run, the body was gone but someone would find out.

He wouldn't let Charlotte rot away in a jail cell.

With some effort, Stein stood, and wrapped Charlotte's fingers in his.

"We should go." he said finally.

They were upsetting house and home, their roots, they were leaving.

She did not move and that was the instant where they both knew she was choosing. He would never let her stay, he would drag her out of the house if he had to because he would not let her get caught.

But she stood, she chose him and Rim had been a terrible accident and Stein wondered if she would've chose him if it hadn't happened. He would never tell Charlotte the truth of where the body had gone or the chemicals on the kitchen floor. Or the fact that he had wiped all of the blood off her before he had set her in the bathtub, there was an extra bucket of water on him and on her and the house was burning around them.

A flame licked at his ankle.

Their eyes were locked together and he kept it that way, his gaze never wavering from hers, and he helped Charlotte out of the bathroom and out of the house, leaving ashes behind and something new in front of them.

Her experiment had failed, but it was no matter.

Her partner was dead, but it was no matter. There would never be another one like Charlotte but next time he would try a different medication and a different amount of exposure to madness.

Her house was burning, but it was no matter, it was just a test room and they were going upstairs, but maybe he would humor her and they could go on a short vacation.

She did love him, after all, she chose him over Rim and it would be cruel to smash that. He loved her back, even though she shouldn't have, but she clung to his hand and tried not to cry, and he did. No matter how much of her life he had ruined, there was still some of it that he could fix.

-o-o-o

**A/N: This was written for my friend Jasmine and her upcoming birthday, prompt included as requested. The ending I twisted up a bit(Charlotte, Rim, and their lives being fabricated) but I'm happy to say it mostly stuck to the prompt :3**


	58. Danse Macabre

_**Danse Macabre**_

_**Chapter 5**_

_**October, Norway**_

_We've all heard about the DWMA. To a lot of us, they come through the poisonous fog as invincible warriors with tree-trunk necks and bloodthirsty scythes, ridding the world of evil and lead by Death himself. It's a fearful concept but a children's story, something every kid could aspire to do until they were promptly told you had to be special to get in. But as we grew up we found out they were people like us-a friend of mine went to the market and stood behind a man in line and didn't know he was from Shibusen until there was a large gust of wind and his coat blew open to reveal his badge. They were like us, they had weaknesses, and for some it was disappointing. They weren't the superheroes we all thought they were, but you had to admit, they were still the stuff of legend. A school for slaying monsters. It sounded like something out of a fairytale, but the best part it that it was real._

Yumi Azusa straightened her back, shifting forward in her chair. It was a lonely Monday in her office, rain coating the thin glass behind her. She pushed up her glasses and halfheartedly got out her Norway notes, her tea faithfully dissolving its sugar.

It was a tale she didn't want to write.

_I wonder, sometimes, how many of the people I see everyday are burdened with this strange task. It's not something you can quit-my best friend has wanted to retire for years, but they hunt you down until you die. _

_Both the monsters and the school._

_She teaches, now, right before she was planning to stop and try and look for love again. It was so wrong to me how they keep you in the loop, working you literally until your leader can reap your soul. It's a life commitment and it never really struck me how horrible it is until I saw some of the people enrolled._

_Teenagers._

_Their parents send them off and most are never seen again. You die in battle, your family gets your body and a letter of condolence. Some teens grow up to become something truly great, but you're trapped there. It's like a prison, and if you don't succeed, you get killed and eaten. I'm not a parent,but I don't understand how a mother could ship her child off to that fate. _

Azusa had almost gone. She had enrolled herself in Shibusen but she got a scholarship somewhere else and them didn't like the rumors about the DWMA.

And here she was, now, writing her very own book.

_I was in the emergency room once, getting a laceration on my hand looked at, and I saw another one of the Shibusen meisters going by. The woman's weapon had the worst look on her face-not because her partner was hurt, but because her partner kept cursing her for bringing her to the hospital. She had wanted to die. It was the only real escape from that job._

_In my story about my trip to Italy I told about that church-the one where the big incident with some kind of monster had happened, and the people there were so different. A nearly supernatural experience had occurred, I don't think an area would ever be the same after something like that._

_This year, I went to Norway. It was October and I headed to one of the hospitals I had happened to see on my way back home from breakfast-quite an early one, but I was starving._

_It was incredibly busy, like a lot of hospital emergency rooms, and I took a seat in the waiting area and got out my notebook. I got some strange looks(as always) but focused on the tearful families and friends, some stone cold and some dissolving right before my eyes in a sobbing heap._

_There was a giant commotion at the doorway, on the other side of a pristine, bleached-white wall of windows, and a man was wheeled in-quite tall, surrounded by a crowd of doctors and one young woman who appeared to be with him, her fingers tightly intertwined with his. She was tripping over her own feet to keep up with the gurney._

_His shirt was red, soaked with blood, and then he was being pushed into the swinging doors which led to operation. His hand was torn from hers, and she stood there for a moment, before slowly finding her way to a seat, across the room from me._

_She was a pale little thing, couldn't have been older that twenty, with short black hair and a smear of blood on her cheek and a lot on her hands. Probably her companion's._

_She was absolutely silent, staring down at her tinted hands with lips thinly pressed together. She looked as worried as everyone else in the waiting room, but there was something so confused in her expression-_

Azusa paused, pulling her hands back from the keys and staring at her blank Norway notes. She had written absolutely nothing that day.

_-like she couldn't believe that something had happened to him. It was a little skeptical for me, too, he was tall and muscular and didn't look like someone you'd want to cross. _

_She was so sad._

_People were buzzing around her-moving in and out of the waiting room, talking to each other in hushed and melancholy voices, and she was so still and quiet, never taking her eyes off her hands._

_I wondered if she was there alone. She looked American, probably on a trip, and it might have been just them and with him hurt she was left by herself._

Azusa felt something pricking in the corners of her eyes and a lump in her throat. She swallowed impatiently and blinked harshly.

_There were train tracks near the hospital-not too close, but across a big old field and a private airstrip you could see it. One pulled in and you could hear the faintest rumbling-but the girl's head snapped up and her eyes-electric blue-snapped onto it._

_There was such blankness in her expression, she was so impassive and bleak, but in that instant I knew exactly what she was thinking, and my heart broke._

_I have never approached a family member or friend of a victim in the hospital, I simply observe, but there was such conviction in her expression that I found myself rising from my seat and taking one next to her._

"_He's going to be fine." I told her, and she did not reply. She didn't even look at me, but I was blocking her view of the trains, so her head snapped back to her hands._

"_His soul is fading."_

_She didn't look at me._

_There was a lovely, melody-like quality to her voice, but it was riddled with sadness. She might have been in shock._

"_I don't think-"_

"_I can tell."_

_It struck me, they were from the DWMA, on a mission._

"_Are you the weapon?" I asked._

_She shook her head._

"_What kind of weapon was h-"_

"_We were both meisters."_

_I'd heard about these people. Independent meisters or weapons, gifted, allowed to do missions without a partner even though they still trained with one. It wasn't uncommon for an instructor to take one or two students into the field by themselves._

"_I'm sure he's very proud of you. He's your...?"_

"_Teacher."_

_Her lips formed the word and her voice barely pushed it out. I knew she was having a hard time comprehending that he was dying._

"_It's my fault."_

"_It's-"_

_Her mouth opened mechanically and she talked in a flat voice about the two of them, alone in that big old house, her wanting to take the foreign trip._

"_That doesn't mean it was your fault he got hurt."_

_She told me about how she had faltered._

_I knew they all traveled like the way one breathes._

"_Do you have anyone to call?"_

_She didn't answer me. She was staring at my camera._

"_Are you a reporter?"_

"_I-"_

"_Leave me alone. Go away."_

_She was like a child, trained to have a response, and I saw it in her eyes-the defiance, the carefully built up walls that he had probably helped her build. Publicity was bad._

"_I'm not a reporter."_

_No reply._

"_What's your name?"_

"_I'm not going to tell you. Please go away."_

_I simply shifted away from her, but did not leave my seat._

_I don't know if she had some sort of brain chip that brought other meisters or weapons to her side, but after an hour or so two men came in and sat next to her._

_They didn't speak either, but the brown-haired one held her hand after the red-haired one stood up to give her a hug._

_A doctor never came down to talk to them so I assumed the man was doing fine. It was unfathomable to me how quickly the two men had arrived-it was impossible they'd taken a flight that quickly, and odd that they would have just been in the area._

_But it was not my business, and I sat for a little while longer until I got hungry for lunch._

_I stood up._

"_Good luck." I told the girl, unheard by the two men, who were deep in serious conversation._

"_Thank you."_

_I didn't want to hear a report of a young woman being scraped off the train tracks. I sincerely hoped they would watch out for her and he would be okay, because it looked like that man was her universe. _

Azusa pushed herself away from her desk with a gasp. Sobs shook her shoulders and she pressed thin fingers to her eyelids, trying to stifle the flow of tears.

_It was in the airport that I picked up a newspaper-I didn't open it until I was seated with my coffee._

_There was a small story inside of an accident._

_I sat there, numb to the world and the busy people carrying their weariness on their shoulders around me. I could only stare at the picture of a halted train and the mangled mass of something on the tracks, two men with bleeding lips and skinned knees and ripped trousers from when they had been kneeling on the edge of the track, too late to save a life. _

_My heart was pounding so loudly that I could hear the blood rushing in my ears and I was surprised the man next to me didn't hear. My fingers were crinkling the paper, tearing it, from the tightness of my grip._

_But it wasn't her._

_They said a man died, it was an accident, he had been chasing his hat and got hit by the train._

_It was almost like the ending of a sappy horror movie, the part where I looked up from the paper and saw the little group that had been in the hospital, the universe-man down on his knees to hug the woman, the height difference still not entirely justified. The two men that had come to console the woman were smiling at the tears in her eyes, the way her face was buried in his shoulder. _

_A smile was tugging at the corners of universe-man's lips._

**-o-o-o**

**A/N: This is sort-of AU, where Azusa never became a Death Scythe and is a lot closer to Charlotte's age. It's a headcanon of mine that the DWMA people can travel through mirrors, so that's how they get dispatched so quickly.**

**Hey, a rare TMM happy ending!**

**I hope you guys enjoyed, and sorry for not updating in a bit. I have quite a lot of new ideas for this fic, but alas, it is May, and I have to start working on my friends' birthday fanfictions. I'll get this in when I can :) Please review!**


	59. I Confessed I Thought I Felt It Too

**A/N: Summer, finally, and hopefully my finals went well. I'll have more time to write now that all that loveliness is over.**

**And surprise surprise, I've been watching NBC's Hannibal; a drabble should be coming soon. **

**Enjoy(a few more might be coming today, I have about 8 new ficlet ideas and am trying to bang most of them out)!**

**-o-o-**

She was an orderly little thing at night.

_Thump _would go her bag, pushed wearily to the floor with all her schoolwork finished. The blankets would rustle and if she was not taking a shower-a night like this, too tired and aching feet. The drawer would pull out smoothly and out came a shirt and shorts, shimmy of cloth down her legs and snapping straps and popping joints as she twisted. Charlotte would exhale. She would move into the bathroom, turn on the hot water in the sink and bend to pick up her washcloth. Wet her face and _scrub, scrub _makeup away. She would watch herself in the mirror and then wring the cloth out and splash water on her features and _pat, pat _with the towel and then came the toothbrush. More scrubbing for the eyes and then he would go to the kitchen while she came to sit by the bed and dig out her smallish bag. He'd come back in with a glass of water, cold, and watch as Charlotte counted pills after a glance at the clock-_one, two, three, four. _Four swallows and gulps of water, a push of the glass out of the way. Slide into bed, shifting, settling limbs.

The sheets would drift down and settle on her like clouds, light and amplifying any small rustle.

At some point in the night he would walk around the room or change her water or make sure he had everything for the next day. There was never anything wrong. He would imagine her heart beating away in her chest and it was so silent in the room he could almost hear it, the rhythm filling the space like a liquid. She would go on, like a clock, and he would never confess that his own heart did not beat the same way, that it was irregular, a _thump-thump, pause, thump, pause. _He would leave himself to figure out which of them was real and which one of them was shuffling off their mortal coil faster. He paced, _one two three pause four_, and clenched his fists tight with frustration. Nothing was in order.

He exhaled, loudly, drowning out the sound of everything, the counting, the disorder.

Charlotte twitched

"_Again, now. Do it again."_

and once again, a perfect five seconds in between.

He would not be able to live with the counting in his head, everything she did and every move he made.

"_One, two-"_

Stein clapped a hand over Charlotte's mouth. She woke.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?" muffled voice behind his fingers.

"Counting. Stop counting in your sleep."

"Sorry?"

She rolled over, a bit disgruntled, and closed her eyes. Charlotte did not go back to sleep, and he knew it. He knew she was listening, eyes shut, trying to hear what was making him go mad. Every part of his body started to itch because he could hear her counting seconds in her head. He could hear himself counting automatically and the numbers crossed, hers slow and his fast.

He went downstairs to get a glass of water

and forgot.


	60. War Is A Horrible Thing

**A/N: This is a bit of an AU-or I just twisted some things around. In the beginning of this, Charlotte has already gone mad, Giriko has allied with the DWMA. The accident isn't canon. **

**Enjoy!**

**-o-o-o**

It was Giriko who Charlotte got dumped with, hastily shoved into his little house-thing that smelled of alcohol and pine needles and sat at the edge of the forest. It would be here that Charlotte would stay until the DWMA could dispatch an agent to come pick her up. They didn't want to look at her, the people delivering her through the snow and chilly air. They were a bit nervous of her gaze and reputation for being a little unstable. And current condition.

Charlotte didn't even know the man she was going to stay with-only he was a bit violent and was an ally and had an extra bed.

"Okay, now, here's his house. You two will be nice and snug!"

They left, in a hurry. Charlotte was still dazed, a corner of the white bandages around her head fluttering near her eye. She didn't notice the door open and the man standing there with a disinterested slouch, a bottle of scotch clutched in his right hand. He observed her, bored.

"Well?"

Charlotte thought she swallowed but she wasn't sure.

An object came too close to her face and Charlotte didn't flinch, trying to focus on him as he lifted up the piece of bandage dangling over her eye.

"You deaf, too?"

She heard the door slam a few minutes later and realized he was gone. Charlotte stood and watched the snowflakes pile up around her ankles, not knowing how long it had been until she was shivering so hard that she couldn't see and maybe she was crying a bit.

Charlotte felt a vice-like grip on her arm and he was yelling in her ear, so loud.

"_What the fuck is wrong with you?! It was a joke, Jesus!"_

Screaming like the train.

He was fretting over her, dragging her into the kitchen and trying to turn on the kettle. He was angry, but at himself, she could see that. She warmed, eventually, and he stared.

"So."

Silence.

"You uh...going to be wearing those bandages all the time? Did they give you more or shit?"

She didn't answer.

"Fuck you, Giriko, she can't fucking talk..."

He shoved a hand through his hair.

"Don't know why they saddled me with this, anyway. Got better things to do than babysit."

Charlotte's thumb lifted at her side, like a bird's wing.

"Didn't mean I wanted ya to get hypothermia or shit like that, though." He said uncomfortably. "Just a joke."

Charlotte didn't move.

"Hungry?"

She finally turned her head to look at him, and nodded.

"Whatcha want?"

Charlotte didn't answer.

"Well, find something." Giriko said dismissively and turned away, taking a swig of scotch. He was making his way to his room when there was a large crash from the kitchen.

Giriko whirled.

She had knocked over a vase with shaky hands, eyes full of panic and her mouth trying to force something out at the shards of glass in her hands.

"Shit, can't leave you alone."

He cleaned it up and patched up her hands without meeting her eyes, grimly hoping for the day when this was all over and done with. She was still quaking when he brought her soup, still in shock from her accident, mute and alone.

"Hey..." Giriko trailed off, a bit regretful for shouting at her earlier. But it was not his way to be...accommodating of injured persons, to show concern. He had no idea how to comfort her.

She was gaping, desperately, and he scrambled for a pen and a piece of paper in the drawer so she could try and get something out.

She burst into silent tears.

It twisted something inside of him and Giriko wished he had never gotten out the paper, the action sort of a _this is what you will have to do to talk_.

"Sorry, sweet cheeks..."

She seemed to draw herself up with a bit of dignity, taking the pen and scribbling how she was scared of going back home.

"Aw, why?"

She didn't answer, just stared at the floor.

"You'll be different, but your brain will heal and shit. They'll still be your friends-"

Charlotte just shook her head.

"Look, you can't fucking be like that. You got to have some faith in yourself or else you really will end up alone. I understand ya may not want to get your hopes up or shit, but if you're not wallowing in self pity because you lost your voice from fucking trauma and they don't want to be around ya, I'd say they were pretty shitty friends in the first place."

After this little speech, she gave a little nod of assent, and he grinned toothily at her.

"There we go."

-o-o-o

He chose to omit the lasting warmth on his torso from before, sinking into a chair and draining half a beer in one gulp. He'd forget. But it was too quiet, and he almost wanted to laugh at the irony that a mute girl could fill the silence that seemed so drastic without her. Giriko tried not to remember the way she had hugged him, a thank-you and goodbye and I-will-miss-you and then she was bustled away back to her transport to Nevada and he was left alone with an envelope of compensation money for his time.

He didn't want it.

It was lying on the floor, coins and bills scattered into places that would be hard to reach later when he decided to pick it up. She was maybe the first friend he had in a long time, even though she could not talk and he was not that good with conversation. And he would probably never see her again.

-o-o-o

"_Soul Resonance!"_

There was a lot to keep track of.

Giriko gritted his teeth as another weapon-meister pair did the sync-thing, coming at him from the left. He was already battling with a group of four on the right and some little shits behind him. Not to mention that religious guy who kept trying to convert him in between attacks. Arachne had given him blood, as he had asked, the cabin in the woods long forgotten. Frustration was like a beacon, she once said, we will find you and help you if you will do a little favor in return. He was a traitor now to the DWMA but few seemed to know it-a guilty little secret he squashed down like a bug.

At first it had sort of disgusted him that he was expected to kill kids.

But she had tempted him to try a soul and they were tender, young, a new taste, and they were trying to kill him without mercy and he'd be damned if he got killed by a little snowflake, even nicked. Out of the corner his eye he saw a new wave of Arachne's minions being unleashed just as a few new groups of DWMA students flooded to meet them, blades clashing and the clangs of metal on metal ringing across the battlefield. He kicked a green-haired boy in the chest, his saw ripping through a few layers of skin before the boy managed to pull away and steady himself, leaning on the shaft of his oversized mallet. Giriko growled, dodging a swipe from a dagger, and nearly decapitated the idiot who wasn't watching where she swung her body.

"_Over there! Kate!"_

The girl who he had just swung at turned her head briefly to a spot in the battlefield, beckoning furiously and then turning back to the fight. Giriko almost laughed-try as they might, they would never be able to take him down. The newcomers arrived in a matter of seconds, a frail looking thing carrying a garden slasher over her shoulder that looked much too heavy for her. She swung it with ease, stepping to his right and aiming low, for the back of his knee. He sidestepped the attack easily, opening his mouth for a taunt when he felt a electric shock go through his body.

The blunt back of the blade had brushed by his ankle when he had knocked it away, the blue sparks dancing from the meister's fingers to the end of the weapon. She grinned at him. He glared back, keeping one eye on her and the other on the other girl. It seemed like the boy was down for the count, limping away weakly towards a medic shack on the edge of the field. The girl, Kate, glanced at him and contorted her face into an expression of regret and sadness when one of Arachne's minions stuck him in the back with a knife.

His weapon transformed and began dragging his partner, fighting off the minions the best he could before someone else noticed and ran out to help.

The new girl swung her blade over her head and transferred it to one hand, the other crackling with the blue electricity. Giriko batted his hood out of the way and pivoted, his saws bringing him speeding towards her faster than she could react to. She jumped out of the way, rolling, and amazing managing not to kill herself with her weapon. She swung, too fast, and missed.

"Idiot." she muttered to herself tearfully.

His hand, whirring, connected with her shoulder, and she let out a terrified scream as his blade sunk into her skin. Her partner, too protective, transformed, and managed to sock him in the jaw before Giriko recovered and gave him a midsection wound he was not likely to forget.

"Rim, _go back_!"

He dutifully followed her order, flashing back into a slasher into her right hand, her left gripping her bleeding shoulder.

She touched her ear, quickly, and circled him as he waited, almost tauntingly.

"_-ME BACK."_

_"_I can get him."

"_I'M SERIOUS. RETREAT."_

_"_Sorry, Spirit."

She pulled the Shinigami-shaped earpiece and tossed it under her heel.

He raised his eyebrow at the display.

"Ready to die, little girl?"

"You shouldn't talk about yourself that way." She responded edgily.

"Ouch." he grinned toothily at her.

Her gaze suddenly swung to the left, not a feint, and Giriko turned briefly to see what she was staring at. Two men were standing at the entrance to the medic shack, clearly looking in her direction, and one was beginning to make his way towards her, despite his still-bleeding wounds.

"Shit."

"Naughty, naughty." he teased. "You'd better run back before you get a time-out!"

"Oh, fuck you!"

Their blades clashed and he kicked at her, knocking her back under her guard. She rose, quickly, swinging her electric blade and managed to clip him before he gripped the blade, gritting his teeth against the shock, and yanked her towards him. He knew she would not let go of her weapon for risk to further injury to him, and sure enough she stumbled forward until he had her by the neck, swiftly bring his finger up to slice into the porcelain flesh at the base of her throat. He continued, serene and oblivious to her shakes, until he had gotten to her chin, and dropped her voiceless to the ground. She crumpled, long gone, and her weapon had barely transformed with an anguished shout before Giriko's ankle collided with the back of his skull.

There was something like a cry/shout from across the field and Giriko turned to see her pursuer, now frozen in the field, silver hair falling over his eyes. Giriko turned back to the girl's body, nudging her with his foot neutrally.

His breath froze in his throat.

_No, no, no, that's impossible. No._

Grown up, shorter hair, change of clothes and no bandage across her eye. A scar across her throat. No.

"No."

It came out of his mouth like a croak.

_That's impossible._

But it had been years and years and he was different, too, changed, and he refused to accept it but in a way he already had. No way he could have known but it seemed like an unforgivable sin. His first friend, her first new one. He killed Charlotte without a second glance. He could feel Mosquito's glare from across the field, wondering why he had stopped fighting at the death of one nameless kid who had overcome her trauma and risen to the top to become beautiful, like this, fighting for her cause and she had her friends and he had killed her.

Her blood spread, slowly, seeping into the field, while the battle raged on around him, fading into a meaningless hum of shouts and clangs

_war is a horrible thing._


	61. 19 Kiss Challenge

**19 Kiss Challenge**

**A/N: Here is my contribution to the 19-kiss challenge(these ficlets are random, not in chronological order). I didn't list the kisses before the fics(as I should have done)because I would laugh too much when I'd be writing and look up at it. I don't know where you can find the list on the web, I just found it on Tumblr, un-tagged, but if you'd like it/you have a question about what sort of kiss one of these is, shoot me a PM/review and I'll be happy to send it to you. Fun for your OTP!**

**-o-o-**

**One: **It is not the first time Charlotte is around when he slips suddenly into another dizzying episode of madness. Unlike her, Stein's body does not unconsciously give off a ominous foretelling like the damn _clicking _of her needle teeth, it just _happens_ and he toils and she does not know how to help him, even if anything she could do would make a deviation. Usually she will try not to expose how frightened she is(_of him_) and he will use every ounce of his dwindling willpower not to crush her windpipe or reach for and break and _snap_ whatever is nearest. Charlotte will inquire what he needs and Stein will often advise her to withdraw from the lab, even though she never will obey, but on occasion he will just bid her to stay, which she always does. She has never abandoned him when he is like this, although he has never quite forgiven her or himself for the scars she has gotten from his hand. Stein recalls faintly the one time the thought drifted across his mind that it wasn't so bad-Charlotte's head flush to his chest, her perfume wafting up into his nostrils and he was able to lower the intensity of his shaking and how frequently a laugh burst from his chest and cause both of them to tremble._It is her_, Stein thinks, _she distracts me_. He dwells on this as his fingers tighten around the edge of the counter, the ghostly pallor of his skin still not quite as white as the tile. Stein watches the blood leave his knuckles and tunes out Charlotte behind him, cutting tomatoes, talking, and the static in his head jumps a notch and he is _gone._ It does not take her long to notice-funny, really, seeing how he is more of the type to just listen to her chatter and nod along, but she can always tell even if no acknowledgement leaves his lips when he is paying attention and when he is not. She can deduce and she turns, perturbed, his name leaving her lips, and Stein fights himself. He _will not_ spin around and mar her, he will not lay a hand on her, except Charlotte's warm hand being placed on his arm, now, and he is losing himself. Stein is dimly aware of her moving him around, peeling his fingers off the counter, saying his name over and over but his throat feels like it's filled with blood and he cannot speak back to her. Charlotte enunciates his name, _loud_, and Stein's eyes tiredly flick to her and he lifts a hand to brush a thumb across her lips. It is easy, now, to touch her, when he is so fatigued and drowning and deaf and she doesn't flinch. Charlotte does not understand but he repeats the motion, unaware of his limbs, and she balances on her tiptoes and swoops up like a bird-_so easy to break her neck_-and presses her lips to his because she is terrified because he cannot hear her. She does not pull away and Stein is beginning to be able to clear his head, he is able to lift a hand to twist the screw in his head. There is fire on her lips and blood on his-_Charlotte_, he thinks, and the static starts to fade. _Be okay_-it is stronger in the quiet, evident in her touch, grief too loud for words that has carried on too long. _Come back_-a fever, perhaps, like they may never see each other again, but she will always come back for him and to Stein it is beginning to get much too warm in the room, he is so close, he can see the tears on her eyelashes roll down her cheeks. _I will be here_, he thinks, he conveys the message to her soul, and Charlotte's fingers interlace with his, soft.

**Two: **He utters her name the moment when he spots her, and because no one says it like he does, she turns and almost instantly spots him through the crowd. Charlotte was on the verge of tears, he can see, and her eyes light up and her smile fills the whole room. When Stein makes his way over to her and he tells her that she looks exquisite she just hugs him and thanks him for coming because no one else could be at her college's elegant graduation party and he came all the way from Nevada for her. They dance, and talk, and Stein tells her how proud he is and she really does cry, that time. He holds her and smiles softly at the top of her head and when Charlotte collects herself she brushes her lips past his cheek and thanks him for everything.

**Three: **Stein perceives that Charlotte does not like to have to sit through things where she cannot talk or move that much for several hours. It is exactly where they are now, an extended play that is more drama and sort of hard to follow, and she is fidgeting in her seat and Stein places a hand on her leg. _Still_. She rolls her head towards him in exasperation, sinking back into her seat, and Stein lets Charlotte push into his side, her head on his shoulder, and when he glances over her lids are half-lowered and half her face is buried in the fabric of his coat. He lets her sit like that, half-asleep, and after a while he turns his head to her and ghosts his lips over the slope of her nose, quiet, a discreet movement that is theirs and Stein feels a comely smile curling across his lips like a wisp of smoke, gentle, and he would not mind if they sat together for eternity.

**Four: **Charlotte has always been one to be hasty to lose faith in herself. He remembers one of the first times they trained together, and she was quite satisfactory and robust and then Stein simply used a hand to push up her elbow, correct the placement of her left foot, tiny things she was always forgetting to do, and her shoulders fell like he had just told her that she failed a test. Charlotte has become more adept at everything, Stein knows, she has prominent a better fighter and she is not as rapid to drop confidence. He is proud of her, and most proud of the fact that she is always asking him to help her train, that she knows she can always exceed her current state. It is hot today, a Wednesday, and they are both worn out even though they have barely been training an hour. Stein, lately, is teaching Charlotte to fight for herself, he is working on her skills as an independent meister. She has potential to be like him(although she is skilled with Rim, very) and he does not want to have her be weaponless as so many meisters have found themselves and not know how to defend herself until she can recover her weapon. They are practicing a sequence, a quick six-step zigzag with an strike at the end, and Charlotte keeps losing her balance. Stein demonstrates, again, and the _snap_ his palm makes, crackling with electricity as he connects with the tree, echoes for miles, seemingly. Charlotte sighs, at herself, and crosses her arms. Stein walks back over to her and tells her to do it again. He knows the exact point where she falters and that is why she keeps falling, she is nervous that she will fall and so she does. Stein waits until Charlotte comes back to stand at the starting point and then positions himself behind her, instructing that she will step as he does. He starts, arms holding her elbows to the proper angle, and nudging her ankles and giving her a light reprimand when she falters on the third step and gives her a little push. Charlotte moves, fast, nervous, and he follows close behind, right up until her strike where he gives a little poke to one of her fingers to make sure it stays straight. Stein nods once, _good_, and again. They move and are at the third step and Charlotte does not falter and she is grinning and he stands behind her while she strikes and it _is_ very good and she twists around, feet glued in place and arm still out, to look up at him for approval. Stein smiles at her and moves his hands by her ears to gently maneuver her head back to its original place so she can properly exit the sequence, a second before he pushes planting a proud kiss on her forehead, and she gives a little bubbling laugh and prepares to do it again.

**Five: **Spirit asks him about it on the way home and Stein does smile when Charlotte is brought up, but he listens to Spirit and laughs and agrees and wonders with him what her reaction will be when they arrive. She did not want him going on this mission, not at all, and was so angry that she did not see him off or talk to him at all while he was away. It _was_ a dangerous one but they all made it through safely and Stein _does_ understand why she is angry and hopes that she will not be _too_ mad to not talk to him when they get back because he _has_ missed her. When they do get back Stein says his goodbyes to Spirit and then makes his way back home, to the lab, and wonders if she will be there or is at Rim's. He thinks she will wait for him even through her fury and when he gets back and her boots are on the doorstep he smiles, crookedly. Stein calls out that he's _back_ and he does not know what he is expecting but she comes downstairs slowly, eyes red and hair disheveled, and Charlotte tells him flatly that he could have _died_ and how would he feel if _she_ died and that she is _quite_ angry and she needs to go blow her nose. She leaves and Stein steps inside and closes the door, puts his things down, and thinks briefly of getting something to eat before Charlotte finds him again and crosses her arms, dark circles betraying her lack of sleep. Stein closes the distance between them and as much as she is trying to ignore him she lets him hold her and eventually she returns the gesture and lets out a breath into his chest, curling her fingers into the material of his shirt and inhaling his scent. Stein lets her press her lips to his, firmly, and he apologizes.

**Six: **It is one of those rare times where Stein is actually sick and Charlotte makes him stay in bed-she is lucky that it is a weekend, or else he would not listen to her and go teach. Charlotte, however, has plans with Rim and a few other friends, and she tells him that she will be gone for an hour and asks tentatively if he needs her to stay. Stein, still half-asleep, tells her to go, that he is fine, and Charlotte gives him a gentle, short kiss before swinging her bag over her shoulder and heading out the door. It is quiet while she is gone, and Stein manages to go back to sleep, and when he wakes up she is back and making food for both of them and he does not have to sleep to pass the time.

**Seven: **They are listening(well, _he_ is not, Charlotte is paying attention) to a stupid lecture on how to be a charismatic tourist(it _is_ really dense, but Charlotte is withdrawing more into herself with her recent injuries and Stein is not charismatic at all and they need to know these things for the next mission) and hopefully it is almost over. Charlotte is leaning on his shoulder with her legs folded next to her and Stein's arm is draped around her shoulder as he rolls his neck, trying to crack it, and she _shush_es him. Stein sighs, inwardly, and then there is this little segment at the end of the video where the speaker tells you to _take care_ of your women, to let them know that you're _open_ to their feelings and Stein almost wants to laugh because it did not really relate to the video at all(maybe it did, but he wasn't watching) but then he looks down at Charlotte and really does wonder if he acknowledges that he loves her enough. He really _doesn't_ say it often, less than he should, and Stein wonders if she is ever sad about that. His arm unconsciously tightens around her shoulders and she looks up at him, questioningly, _what_, and Stein thinks about telling her what he doesn't regularly but she says it, steals the words from him, and before he can process his actions he is cupping Charlotte's cheek and they kiss, deeply, and Stein lets her pull back for air and tells her that he loves her, too.

**Eight: **Stein is not sure what Charlotte is sad about, exactly, but it is not unusual, these moods of depression happen more and more often and he is worried about her, although he does not let it show. She sits on his bed, lying in a ball, her arms wrapped around her knees, and she watches him unpack from a mission, silent, left to her own head. Stein usually listens to Charlotte talk, fill the space with her melodious voice and animated tales, but she is quiet and so he talks instead about an upcoming mission the two of them have together. When Stein turns around, done, her eyes are closed-and she is probably not sleeping but he does not say anything. He walks to her, places his hand on her forehead with a half-smile, reaching up to place his glasses on the table so he can lean low and brush his lips over her eyelids.

**Nine: **It is not one of the first times that Charlotte has to bring him back to Earth, to stop him. Stein knows that he does get carried away, sometimes, Spirit used to have to transform and tell him to pull back. It hasn't been brought up but recently between the two of them but Stein had heard of gangs of kishin eggs roaming after dark, attacking DWMA students, and although he knows Charlotte can take care of herself and this is what she trained for he tells her to be careful. She says yes, of course, but Stein is concentrating on her soul one night, making sure she gets home, and then it is distressed and he can tell something has gone wrong and he knows he will not make it there quickly, even if he runs. All the same he starts to sprint and when he gets there four out of the five kishin eggs are on the ground and the biggest one is holding her, _touching_ her ankle with its slimy tongue, and Charlotte is halfway between sanity and madness as she gets when fighting scared and she is hurt and all Stein can think about is ending a life. He is not that out of breath from the several-mile run, thankfully, and he surges without a second thought and then she is out of its reach and he just keeps driving his fist into its bloated body, over and over, and Charlotte is pulling on his shoulders, telling him to _stop_, and she is getting frightened and the next thing he feels is her fist colliding with his jaw. It is enough to make him cease the attack and he stares at her and Charlotte stands there and bleeds and he can see in her eyes that she is angry at him, _I could have managed it_, and Stein stands and Charlotte doesn't allow him to touch her. A few days later when her wounds are healing and Charlotte finally is not mad anymore at him for scaring her she plants a light kiss over the bruise on his jaw and asks him to never do something like that again.

**Ten:** Stein has learned to shut the lights off when he joins Charlotte in bed-it has to be dark before he climbs in next to her. For his sake-he will spend _hours_ staring at the scar on her neck, flooded with guilt and the memories of what he did and how she should not be sticking around. Charlotte woke up once, with him standing over her and just _staring_, and she jerked out of his gaze in fear and ever since then when he joins her, an hour or so later after she has fallen asleep, the lights are off so he does not see it. Stein tries not to think about it when she is next to him and he can almost see it in the moonlight. He has to stop himself from touching it-a tremendous effort and she does not care much about it, the scar is usually hidden by her hair, but Stein knows that sometimes when Charlotte is having a moment of madness she will scream at him about it and she does not remember what she says but it is terrible enough for him to be reminded _by her_, even unintentionally. It happens every once in a while but it still plagues his mind, day to night. Saturday, today, and they have both come back to the lab in good spirits and when he thinks she is asleep he places a hand on her stomach and traces upwards, softly, and when he reaches her neck she reaches upwards and pushes his hand downward, right on top of the scar. Stein knows that Charlotte is aware that he is guilty about her death and everything surrounding the scar, but she holds his hand in place quietly and goes back to sleep. Stein lays there, awake, for what seems like eternity, knowing that if he moves she will wake and if he keeps his hand there he cannot put off thinking about what he is touching any longer. Her grip is firm, unyielding, and Stein closes his eyes and lets the memories flood. He thinks that maybe it is what Charlotte wants-she wants him to get over it, step by step, because maybe he was not considering how she feels and maybe she does not like it when he feels guilty because she would rather just forget, and maybe she does not like it when he stares. Stein decides that she is most likely setting a good example and tells himself that he can do it, for her, and when he leans to lightly kiss the scar Charlotte's lips curl into a smile.

**Eleven: **Stein does not know whether Charlotte is conscious or not when he reaches her. She is crumpled on the ground and Rim is too injured to transform back into his human form so he lies motionless on the ground next to her. It was a mission gone bad and Spirit is following him, lifting Rim with some difficulty, and Stein makes a fast, educated assessment that she is safe to move with some bandaging for now-getting her back would be the best thing. Stein rolls Charlotte over onto her back, cradling her head, and braces her right hip on his knee while he pulls aside the tattered hem of her shirt to get to the slash. Charlotte does not move or open her eyes but she gives a weak groan as he begins to bandage her up, Spirit idling behind. He tells Stein he will meet him back at the base, glancing at Charlotte. Stein is very capable, more than enough to carry her back with the light wound she has. It is more a concussion than anything. The older meister nods and then Spirit leaves and the two of them are alone. He is picking up Charlotte, her head lolling on his chest, and Stein is standing when she moans and then he hears her neck _crack_ sharply and there is an abrupt pain in his collarbone. He leans back to look and she is _biting_ him, eyes glazed over. She warns him to put her down and then gives a strangled yell for him and Stein tells her that he can't put her down at the moment, that it is okay and it _is_ him, but Charlotte does not recognize him at all. Stein starts to walk and she bites down harder, trying to squirm, but it is difficult, and she gives up with an exhausted sigh, resting her head on his chest, and later when she is okay he points to the mark and they both laugh and on impulse she leans forward to plant a kiss on the spot and he smiles, wearily, from losing sleep to take care of her, and Charlotte moves closer to him before asking if they can both retire for the night.

**Twelve: **It is raining outside the lab, Charlotte's favorite weather, and it is after midnight and she is laying awake, threading her fingers in between the sheets and blankets, giggling from the tingle Stein's lips leave on her pale skin, all up her stomach and he has had to hold her straight because she keeps wiggling around. He is laughing, and grinning because the devilish man _knows _it tickles, and is just bending to kiss her again when there is a loud _boom_ of thunder. Charlotte is not scared of thunder or lightning or anything like that but she is scared of loud noises, and she flies into Stein's chest so quickly he barely has time to see it-he can feel her quaking underneath the quilt and he holds in a laugh because he _knows_ she would smack him and instead pats the quilt where he is faintly sure her head is and waits for her to calm down. When she emerges, Charlotte acts like nothing happened, and when Stein makes small a _boom_ noise, she swats his nose playfully and then plants a slightly annoyed kiss on his chest.

**Thirteen: **It seems like Charlotte gets most of her injuries on her stomach or sides-when she is back at the lab and Stein is changing her bandages in a spot she can't quite get with a sprained wrist, she is silent and he is musing why. In the next moment she bursts into tears and tells him that she does not want _another_ scar, and it helps her tears subside when Stein presses a kiss to her stomach and confirms that she is beautiful and that her battle scares make her look tough.

**Fourteen: **Stein is exhausted, and Charlotte knows that, but she is full of energy and did not want to be left in the dark lab alone. She went with him to bed and she has now resorted to staring at him and wondering if he will wake from the intensity of her gaze. He does not, just rolls onto his back in his sleep, and Charlotte delves beneath the covers, swimming in the blankets before she finds a limb(his leg) and surfaces for more air. Stein is still asleep, and Charlotte huffs, throwing herself onto the mattress from her knees with utter despair. She is _bored_, and knows that if she wakes the older meister up he will hold her right next to him and not let go until she goes to sleep and that will not be for _hours_. She gives another huff and decides to have some fun and if he wakes up she will act asleep and he cannot blame her for 'accidentally' tickling him. Charlotte tentatively kisses along his hips and before she can react and jump away he is awake, an Charlotte thinks _oh, shit_ and goes motionless. Stein says her name with a sigh of exasperation and then tells her to go to sleep and when she cautiously pokes his hip he takes her hands firmly and pulls her up the bed, shoves her hands under the pillow and holds her in place until he goes back to sleep. Charlotte grins into the pillow and allows her body to sink into the natural curve of his chest that she fits into nicely and lets her eyelids drift shut, gleefully thinking of the lighthearted scolding she will get in the morning.

**Fifteen: **It is raining and well after midnight when Stein wakes, immediately aware that Charlotte is no longer beside him. He concentrates for a moment and finds her soul outside-_outside_, of all places, at this time and in this rain. Stein gives a long sigh while he pulls on his coat and shoes-there was no immediate distress in her soul, so Charlotte has most likely forgotten where she is and he will go retrieve her. When Stein gets downstairs and goes out back, she is soaking wet and shivering(no surprise, she is only wearing her thin pajamas) and rooting through the several storage boxes by the back gate that he keeps meaning to throw out. Stein squishes through the mud and calls to her, but she sees him and begins searching more frantically. He joins her and asks, incredulously, what is she looking for at this time of night, and then he sees that Charlotte is just starting to cry and she tells him that she needs the scissors. He asks _why_, sharply, and she flinches at his tone and tells him that she needs to open something, and Stein asks _what_ and she just sort of looks at him and tells him that the scissors aren't in the drawer. Stein does not really want to upset her farther and tell her why they are not at this time of night when he is tired and he wants her back inside before she makes herself sick. He just says that he has them, he will put them back later, and when they are back in bed and he is still rubbing her body softly in rhythmical circles with the towel, he tells her in a quiet voice that she _knows_ why, and Charlotte gives a nod even though she can not really remember at the moment because the warmth is making her sleepy. Stein tells her that he will always be there(and curses himself because he is not the one she should talk to but _what_ psychiatrist would take a mad _meister_? Charlotte would never agree, anyway)and she nods, tired, and Stein shares a long kiss with her before she falls asleep and he keeps rubbing until he is tired, too.

**Sixteen: **Charlotte has been hanging by her knees for the past few minutes from the old pull-up bar she found in one of Stein's storage rooms from his school days, and she has put it up in the main hallway and is hanging there and watching him type while she gently swings back and forth, doing the occasional upside-down sit up and cracking her neck. There is a knock at the door and Stein goes to answer it and it is Spirit-they talk for a while and then Stein is closing the door when he remembers that Charlotte is still hanging and he goes to find her, and she is actually _dozing off_. Stein holds in a laugh and bends to kiss her awake instead, and the next five minutes consist of her terrified shriek as she leans into the kiss and nearly falls off the bar.

**Seventeen: **Stein does not remember much about the night before-only that Spirit persuaded him into drinking and he has one _hell_ of a headache. Luckily, the curtains create dimness in the room and his eyes do not hurt too badly, so he sinks back down onto the pillows and groans before an arm rises out of the pillows and settles on his chest. _Charlotte_, he thinks, fast, and it is her soul but again, he does not remember last night or anything and he tries to pull the covers back quietly so he can see her face. Stein is relieved to see that she is in one piece(although probably in pain). Charlotte groans and rolls towards him, rubbing the bridge of her nose weakly, and Stein sighs and turns his head to press his lips to her temple, letting his eyelids slide shut as he moves a hand to Charlotte's back, using his elbow to work out the soreness in her back he know she will have from drinking(a peculiarity) and she mumbles something gratefully.

**Eighteen:** Charlotte persuades Stein to go in the pool, eventually, because they are at Spirit's with some other people and and it a nice night. They are swimming and playing a game sort of like Marco-Polo except you must feel around underwater and Charlotte hides with Stein in a corner and the two submerge themselves, Charlotte carefully watching Nygus splash around in search from them and giggling when her fingertips almost brush against Sid's chest. When Nygus comes near Stein pulls Charlotte under and she is trying to stay under and thrashing around and Stein brushes his lips up her neck, past her cheek, over her nose, and Charlotte goes still, transfixed, and Nygus swims by.

**Nineteen: **Stein knows that Charlotte has a low pain tolerance. It has given him more than a few overreactions when trying to help her, especially when he will ask what her pain level is and she will moan like her arm is being cut off. It is when she does not speak at all, when she is in too much pain to breathe, that he will worry. It is one of those times, where she is in that awkward phase between leaving the two-star meister rank but still a ways from a three-star meister rank. Charlotte and Rim are taking missions that are most likely too advanced for a single two-star meister team but it is the only way she can improve. Rim, of course, will take as many blows as he can for his meister, but there is a time where it is just safer for the both of them when he remains in weapon form and Charlotte uses both him and her independent skills to finish the job. They were on a mission(and Stein watches most of them) where there was an unlisted second kishin egg and Stein almost wanted to shout through the mirror at the pair to _turn around_ for Death's sake, but to his relief she did, in time, and was well on her way to defeating it when the not-quite-dead first creature rose on shaky legs. Stein was always tellingher to make _sure_ that it was dead, to see the soul, before turning your back, but in Charlotte's defense she did not really have the time to check. The muted battle through the mirror continued and as he was watching the first's weapon's arc of descent between Charlotte's shoulder blades, counting the seconds before it hit, and Stein watched as she let out a silent scream and then that was when he knew that it was not going to end well. He would _not_ let it end badly, and he was already out the door with a pass as a medic before he was stopped, Nygus was going, and if it had been anyone else the meister would not have cared and gone anyway. It was best for him to wait here, they said, when the bodies came back and he could assess any lasting damage with them stabilized. Saying it like that, _bodies_, made it seem like they were already dead, and Stein turned slowly back to the mirror and found that there was another fight displaying, Charlotte and Rim's off the screen, and he surged out of the room to go find the infirmary where he knew he could watch. He stood, arms crossed, and watched Charlotte shake without words, eyes open, the poison embedded in her flesh working its way through her body. Rim did not have the poison but had nearly gotten decapitated when he transformed and was bleeding, bad, on his shoulder. Time seemed to drip by as he waited for the extraction team to bring them back, and when they were _finally _here Stein was allowed to shoo most of them out, getting right to work, and trying not to think about how quiet it was except for Charlotte's tiny whimpers and Rim's soft gurgles from the next area over as he spat up blood. His hands worked on autopilot, of sorts, disinfecting and injecting and stitching and bandaging until there was no longer a gaping, poisoned slash in her back. Charlotte had gone quiet, knocked unconscious from a combination of pain and drugs, and Stein carefully turned her over to work on the multiple small wounds on her face and arms, and by the time he had finished, she was beginning to wake. Charlotte asked for him and then asked for Rim, her voice sedated and drowsy, and Stein exhaled before taking a seat in the empty chair next to the bed. Her hand swung in his direction, and he gently interlaced his fingers with hers and calmly answering her question-_no, you are not going to die_, and when she gave a shuddering, fear-filled breath, Stein half-rose out of his chair to place a firm and short kiss on her lips-_go back to sleep_.


	62. Leeches and Hollows

Stein can hear Charlotte's low groan behind him as they all step into the murky, swampy water. They will have to walk through this for a mile or so before they get to dry land again, and the terrain was unexpected. However, most of them are dressed for it-except Charlotte, she is in her sneakers and until they end above her ankles and her skirt stops at mid-thigh her legs are exposed. She grumbles because they are all wearing long pants, and Rim and Spirit have transformed to avoid walking through the muck.

"This is disgusting." she mutters, and Stein keeps his eyes ahead, Spirit resting on his shoulder like he is some sort of morbid fisherman.

"Can you carry me?" Charlotte asks after a moment to Giriko, who is equally displeased with the situation.

"Hell no." the chainsaw growls. "You got legs."

"So does Rim!" her object provokes no response from the weapon, and as a result, Charlotte holds him out over the water.

"Go on, walk like the rest of us, lazy boy."

Rim does eventually transform, managing to not land on his ass and completely submerge himself in the mud and water, and they all give Spirit dirty looks until he transforms and ruefully walks with the rest of them. They travel in silence, mostly, except for the squishes and uncomfortable mumbles of discomfort. They are about halfway when Charlotte shrieks and flies out of the water and onto Giriko, who is nearest.

"Get off of me-"

"_Something touched me!"_

"It's a swamp. There will be plant life and fish." Stein responds in a monotone, keeping his dry gaze forward and level. He has been like this the whole mission and no one really knows why but Charlotte does not answer, she is clinging to Giriko and he is grudgingly wiping the mud off her legs with his sleeve.

"Hey." he says suddenly, and then Charlotte flails and he has to struggle to hold her. "Calm down, will ya?!"

"What _is_ that?" she screeches, and they all turn to see the smallish black object peacefully attached to her shin.

"Is that a leech?" Rim asks quietly so she cannot hear, and Spirit nods after a moment.

"Don't worry, Charlotte." Spirit trudges over to her and starts scraping at it where it is attached and it does fall off back into the swamp with a _plop._

"Do I have to keep walking around with those things around?"

"Just tell us when you-"

"They're sucking my blood! What if I die?"

"You're not going to die."

"I _might_."

"I can give you a piggyback ride, if you want." Rim offers. "If someone will carry my backpack."

"I got it." Giriko grumbles after a moment, and he takes the extra pack while Charlotte hurriedly climbs on Rim. They start to walk againand when Rim is tired he starts to put her down and she slips in the mud. There is a fleeting expression of horror on her face before Stein's fingers dig into her wrist and he sharply pulls her upwards right before she is about to hit the water, and Charlotte splashes around trying to regain her footing.

"Death, thank you!" she is gasping, and then the younger meister's face contorts into an expression of extreme shock.

"No. Get it off. _Get it OFF!"_

They do not comprehend what she is talking about until she raises one soaked sneaker above the water and there are two leeches secured on her leg. Spirit moves to grab her foot and scrape them off when she starts to shake and hop in place.

"My other leg!"

"Stop moving, you'll just attract more!" Giriko barks, and places his hands around her hips and lifts her out of the water so she is not squirming so much. He carries her like that after she is leech-free and they are a safe distance from the spot.

"I hate this."

Spirit lets her clamber up on his back with Stein taking his pack, and when he shifts her to Stein, they are careful not to put her down for so long. The scientist carries her the longest because he does not voice that he should be giving her to Rim. When they finally arrive and are able to step onto the area of dry land Stein puts her down and takes his bag back, leading the way to the small building that is serving as their temporary base until they will travel on some more tomorrow. It will be no more swamp from here on, and they are all grateful, taking off shoes and socks and hanging them out to dry by the fire. The building is cinder blocks, mostly, and some sort of fan-like leaf and reeds for a roof, but the five of them can lie down under it if two or three of them squish together.

Since it is not raining, they sit outside and keep an eye on the approaching night, drying shoes and stepping behind the building to change pants and dry those as well. They have brought food and supplies with them for this journey, plenty, and will be able to restock at their next destination. Stein, who has been checking his compass this whole way, does not join them around the fire, just stands near the water and looks at his map.

Charlotte muffles a yawn in Rim's jacket sleeve, leaning on him as she warms her feet by the flames. Spirit is unpacking their bedrolls and Giriko is drinking something he brought along and relents after a short while to share it with Spirit. Soon, their food is done and Stein comes to join them as they eat in silence, Charlotte barely pecking at her food until Rim says something in her ear and she digs in.

"Professor, c'mere."

Rim looks up as Stein obliges and follows Charlotte where she is crouching by the water, pointing at something. Spirit is musing over where to place their bedrolls in the enclosure and Giriko is chugging back what is left in that flask of his. Rim decides to check on their pants and put away what remains of the food. When he is done he looks at his meister again and she and Stein are deep in conversation, she is staring at him and he is pointedly avoiding her gaze. Charlotte says something fiercely in a hushed tone and Stein just shakes his head and replies and then she grins at him.

When it is time to go to bed-Charlotte and Rim go first, mostly because she is tired and Rim does not have anything else to do. They lay down side by side, Rim by the back wall and Charlotte next to him, another pallet next to her and the other two in front of them. When the weapon briefly wakes for a trip to the bathroom, he notices that Stein has chosen the pallet next to Charlotte and she has unconsciously pushed herself into his side and his arm is resting on her back. Rim smiles at the sleepy smile on her face and settles back under the blanket he shares with the other two, allowing himself to slip back into slumber. He thinks, some point during the night, that he hears someone crying out softly, but it is most likely a dream and he forgets about it the next morning.

-o-o

Giriko wakes the rest of them from his shouting.

He is standing by the dead fire and calling out before Stein gets up to see what he is yelling about and that is when they notice that Charlotte is gone. Quickly, they all hurry outside and stare around, but if she has left, it will be impossible to find her.

"Sweet cheeks!" Giriko shouts one last time before Spirit says Stein's name quietly and Rim knows that he is looking for her soul.

"What?" Stein asks, startled, his eyes opening, and they all watch him as he abruptly goes back into the structure and just stands there, staring at something. One by one, they follow him, and they see a bundle huddled up in the corner. She is disguised by the shadows and perfectly motionless except for her breathing and Rim is about to go to her when Stein flings out an arm and catches him in the chest.

"Wait." he cautions, and leans forward to place two fingers on her neck. They are about to ask why he is taking her pulse, she is obviously alive, but without words they know he is checking if her heart rate is elevated. If it is, it will mean that she is long gone and could possibly severely injure all of them if they try and touch her.

She flinches when Stein touches her, facing towards the wall. Stein removes his hand after a moment and shakes his head and they do not know what that _means_.

"Well?" Giriko asks, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"It's normal. Barely. She may be coming out of an episode."

Silently, Rim hopes that it is not true, he hates to think of Charlotte awake and alone in the night and having to experience that by herself. They are all quiet until Spirit begins to pack their things and Rim and Giriko follow his lead, leaving Stein to crouch by Charlotte's form. He is saying something to her in a low tone, brushing his fingertips over her arm, and since Rim is still rolling up his bedroll he sees when Charlotte's head snaps up and she gives Stein a panicked look.

"Easy."

"You hurt me." She is saying, and Rim is trying to understand what she means when Stein gently but firmly presses upwards on her jaw and effectively cuts off her speech. It is odd, Rim thinks, and Stein turns and glances at him and Rim gets the message to leave. When the two of them emerge, Charlotte is a bit dazed but walks with them and holds conversation with Spirit as they leave the camp behind. Stein is watching her and Rim is noticing how she keeps rubbing her arm under her jacket sleeve but it is probably just a nervous tick. Giriko and Spirit do not act like anything happened and are not sure if she even knows something did-but it has happened before and they are practiced in how to act.

There is a very odd occurrence about half an hour into their walk, where Charlotte stumbles and to Rim's eyes it looks like Stein bumps her towards a tree at the perfect angle and a branch looks like it scratches her arm. Charlotte rubs her arm, again, and sort of half-laughs with a mock wince, and Spirit asks if she is okay and then they continue on.

Rim is staring at where he is stepping, deep in thought. Stein is very smart, he knows that, maybe smarter than any of them realize. He is smart enough to know how to hide things that he does not want other people to find out-but he is being paranoid. Rim knows that Charlotte has let Stein see everything because she believes he can maybe help her that way, and he trusts her judgment and decides to let it be.

They arrive, finally, and a few people meet them at the much bigger base. There is food and bunkers and a medical area and they are all sent there, first.

"You've got a nasty cut here, miss." One of the nurses says to Charlotte while she is taking off her jacket. Charlotte brings her arm forward and they both stare at the long, shallow, angry slash that is not bleeding but the skin is torn up in places. It is accompanied by smaller scratches from the branches, probably.

"Were you scratching it?"

"I didn't realize this was there..."

"Well, let's get it fixed up."

Stein has been watching Charlotte and he looks away when the nurse starts to clean it, the scientist himself being dismissed almost immediately after he has been assessed. Spirit, Giriko, and Rim are all fine, and they wait for Charlotte with Stein and then go to put their things down in the bunkers. There is dinner for them and then right to bed it is, for they are going to fight tomorrow.

Rim wakes and Spirit is shaking him. He can barely see the older man's face in the dark, but he can tell that it is urgent and sits up.

"Where is Charlotte?"

_Oh, no_, Rim thinks. "I don't know."

He is fighting to wake up as Spirit moves away and begins to check every corner of the room in case she is huddling again and Rim is about to ask why Spirit is even awake anyway when Giriko answers for him.

"You stay here. I'll go look for the Doc. She's not here either?"

"No. Giriko, you stay. You haven't seen Stein when he's-"

"How do ya know he even is? Could've just gone for some water or something."

"And taken Charlotte with him?"

"She may have woken up and gone after 'im, I don't know."

"I don't want to take that chance." Spirit says grimly. "I'll go."

Giriko relents and sits on the bunk opposite Rim's, scratching his cheek and exhaling slowly.

"Wish they'd just stay in their beds for one night, ya know?"

Rim nods and fidgets with the corner of his pillowcase. He is worried about his meister and Spirit getting injured because he is sort of aware what has happened when they are mad together.

-o-o

Spirit finds Charlotte first.

She is not far-in the kitchens, only a floor below. He has decided to go down instead of up and the first set of stairs he encounters leads directly to a hallway outside the kitchen, so it is there that is checked first. All the lights are off.

"Charlotte?"

There is an odd noise and Spirit pads across the tiled floor, fumbling for a light switch, and he sees her crouching on the floor holding what looks like a _person_-but he flicks the switch and she is just attacking a large bunch of celery with a whole lot of ketchup smeared on it. She is rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, facing him and seemingly ignoring the fact that he is there and the lights are on. Charlotte gnaws on her snack, the ketchup coating her cheeks and Spirit is faced with the unpleasant feeling that it looks like a _limb, _almost, it has the right girth.

"Charlotte."

She does not stop chewing, tearing away a large chunk of green flesh and splattering ketchup on the wall. It occurs to him that maybe she does not realize that it is not a limb, that she is under the impression that she is purposefully eating it.

Spirit takes a step towards her, and she does not react. It seems like she is out of danger for the minute-her eyes are glazed over and not filled with malice, it is likely that she is coming out of an attack.

"Where's Stein?"

At the mention of his name, Charlotte answers in a monotone.

"You hurt me."

"Where?"

She thrusts forward an arm, not quite letting go of part of the celery, and she takes some of the bunch with her motion and holds it out towards him. Spirit notices that all the careful bandaging the nurse did is gone, there are more cuts, and there is a nasty slash on her foot.

Spirit approaches her and kneels. He does not know what to do, really, he fears that if he tries to move her or take the celery away she will spring back into madness. Charlotte is fragile at the moment and although he does not want to leave her it may be the best option.

"Stay here, okay?"

She grins, widely.

"I will."

Spirit ignores the sinister edge to her voice and stands.

"Where did you come from?"

Almost as if he ordered her to, Charlotte drops her snack and scuttles across the floor like a crab, supporting herself on all fours and throwing her head back to watch him as she goes, smiling at him and showing all her teeth.

The Death Scythe follows when she calls in a sing-song voice from around the corner if he is coming.

She leads him down a flight of stairs and it is undeniably _creepy_ how she moves along, looking at him like that, and Spirit does not meet her gaze. She darts suddenly to the side and slams into the wall. Spirit notices that there is a doorway a few feet ahead and she most likely meant to turn there. He is looking down at her crumpled form when she raises her injured foot and picks a piece of glass out of the cut casually and drops it on the floor. It shatters, and she resumes her position, taking no heed to the shards she is walking over as she continues to the doorway.

Once she goes through Charlotte begins to shake with high-pitched laughter and Spirit barely has time to react as she stands up and throws herself to the side, one palm crackling with blue electricity. He sees a hand come out of nowhere, catching Charlotte's wrist and twisting it to the side until she breaks her laughter and gives a squeak, and Spirit can hear it crack and snap as he continues twisting from down the hall.

"What do you want, senpai?"

"Stein, what the hell is going on?"

"Don't come any closer."

Spirit has barely taken a step but he obeys.

"Let her go."

"As you wish." the voice is bored, and Stein releases Charlotte, leaving her to stand there and quietly giggle.

"Stein-"

Charlotte whirls, towards Spirit, and stares past him with no expression on her face. Spirit cannot hear anything from behind him and he does not really want to turn around and look in case she rushes him-but continues to try and coax Stein out into the light.

"Have I hurt her, senpai?"

"Yeah, Stein. I think you just broke her wrist."

"Ah."

"What are you doing back there?"

"Stitching myself back up, I believe."

"Do you need help?"

It is a stupid question, but Spirit desperately wants to go see what state he is in.

"What the hell-"

Spirit turns and Charlotte lets out a shriek of bubbling laughter at the sight of Giriko descending the stairs. Rim is not with him and apparently the chainsaw got bored waiting.

"Giri-chan!"

"Aw, sweet cheeks, you ain't hurt, are ya?"

Charlotte starts to walk down the hall towards him, bleeding, ketchup smeared on her lips and her wrist held at an awkward angle. Giriko watches her as she continues to deliberately place her feet until she has bumped into him.

"Oops."

Giriko glances at Spirit, and the weapon gives him a slight nod. He will watch her while Spirit goes to Stein.

"Sit down with me for a minute, yeah?"

Charlotte nods happily and obliges, allowing Giriko to use his sweatshirt sleeve to wipe off some of the ketchup. Spirit starts forward, entering the small little hallway and seeing Stein to his right, slouching in the corner, half turned toward the wall.

"Stein."

"Senpai." the other meister responds dryly.

"I see that you're back enough to keep your sarcasm." Spirit remarks, trying to see where Stein is hurt. There is blood on his shirt and that is all he can see from this angle.

"Stein, give me the knife, all right?"

"I need it."

"For what?"

Stein does not answer, just closes his eyes briefly against what Spirit believes is pain. He hears Charlotte giggle from the hall and Giriko's voice trying to find something to talk to her about that will keep her distracted.

"Stein, please."

Privately Spirit does not think they should fight tomorrow.

"I haven't finished...removing the leeches."

"They're gone, Stein."

"Are they?" His meister's voice is distant.

"Yeah. Give me the knife and come with me, okay?"

He can see exhaustion in Stein's eyes-terror, too, and with some hesitation the meister relents and places the knife in Spirit's palm, allowing himself to be led out into the hall. Spirit keeps his hand firmly on the scientist's shoulder, guiding him farther towards the stairs.

"Giriko."

"Yeah?"

Charlotte is playing with the strings on his sweatshirt.

"Follow me up."

The chainsaw stands and helps Charlotte up, holding her hand as she follows him dutifully up the stairs. The group makes their way up to the infirmary-and Spirit panics for a moment, he does not have medical training, but there is someone in there cleaning up.

"Hey. I need some help with these two."

The nurse does not say anything while he works-orders, probably, no one here has spoken to them much, and once he removes what is left of Stein's shirt they are to see there are some slashes but not much else. He is being fixed up and Charlotte abruptly jerks away when the nurse tries to touch her next.

"Stop it."

She slaps his hands away and Spirit knows the nurse will get a nasty shock if he continues.

"Charlotte, please, let him. He won't hurt you."

She does not listen to him.

"Charlotte." Stein's voice is tired, set, and she ceases immediately and allows herself to be tended to.

When the both of them are bandaged and cleaned up, Spirit takes the nurse aside and tells him that he would like their bunker locked. The man protests at first, saying that if there is another accident or something happens they will be locked in there, but Spirit nods and tells him that they will all sleep in anyway. The worst of it is over, Spirit knows that.

Giriko is quiet on the way back, the chainsaw's sharpened teeth digging into his lower lip. As morbid as it is, once they have unleashed some form of violence they are usually out of the madness. Rim stands as they enter and he looks very much like he would like to sock Stein in the jaw but Spirit gives him a warning look and they all go back to bed in respective calm.

At some point Rim wakes and Charlotte is crying.

"It _hurts_." She is whispering, not in her bunk above him but in the bottom one by Giriko's where Stein is sleeping, and as much as Rim wants to get up and pull her away he just listens to Stein's exhale and an actual _apology_-they do not make an appearance often.

"I know." he answers, weary, and there is the noise of brushed skin-to-skin contact. "Try and sleep."

Rim hears her crying slowly diminish until there is only the odd sniffle.

"I am sorry, Rim."


End file.
